Lost In Time

by W M Wiltshire

  Harry met with the press to announce Fred Noonan’s role and indulged the reporters by answering a few questions regarding the upcoming flight. He relayed that all traffic and radio bearings would be via Pan American stations and that they would use both voice and Morse code. He finished by telling them they would fly over the ocean in the morning for a final check of the radios and compass.

  “Captain Manning, are you nervous about the flight?” a reporter asked.

  “No, not nervous, just eager to get started,” Harry replied.

  After the press conference, Harry went back into the office and spent the next hour finishing the communication plan and sending the message to the Coast Guard.

  33

  Case had to think of something fast. He had overheard the press conference and knew, if the weather held, the world flight could take off as early as Sunday. In an enclosed wooden telephone booth at a nearby diner, Case placed a long distance call to his employer.

  “Hello?” There was static on the line.

  “Admiral Yama . . .”

  “Do not use my name, you fool!” Case’s employer chastised. “I take it you have not accomplished your mission; that is why you are calling. So, what have you to report?”

  “I tried to push their car into a head-on collision, which would have injured or killed everyone in the car, but the driver swerved at the last minute and avoided the crash,” Case started his report.

  “Then, I tried to get access to the airplane in the hangar in Burbank, disguised as a mechanic, but I was discovered by some kid,” Case continued, knowing excuses would not be well received. “That kid could be a real problem, actually.”

  “Trying is not good enough! There is a lot at stake here. The Japanese Imperial Navy is en route as we speak. Over the next several days, the armada will be in the direct path of ‘THAT’ flight. We cannot take the chance that they will spot the fleet. You need to take care of ‘your’ problems.”

  “I understand, Admir . . . sorry. I understand and I will get it done. You can count on me,” Case tried to reassure his employer. He knew the price of failure and he had no desire to pay it.

  “You are being paid a substantial amount of money to make this happen. I do not expect to be hearing from you again and wish only to read in the newspapers that you have completed your mission.” The phone line went dead.

  “Well, that was pleasant,” Case said aloud to himself. He hung up the receiver and exited the telephone booth. He left the diner and stepped into the bright afternoon sunlight.

  Case had to stop the flight; Amelia Earhart couldn’t be allowed to reach Howland Island. Which meant he had only two opportunities to stop her: here at Oakland or in Honolulu. He needed to act quickly. They were planning to start the world flight the day after tomorrow. He had to get to the airplane tomorrow after their morning flight. In case his efforts here failed, he would book passage to Honolulu, for one last attempt. After that, it would be too late and he could say goodbye to his fortune and, more importantly, his life. He was determined not to let that happen!

  34: Saturday, March 13, 1937

  Morning dawned bright and clear. It was going to be a busy day. They had the morning flight and, weather permitting, the world flight would start the next afternoon. But right now, the forecasts for the next few days were not promising. They also had to get three members of their team onto a ship bound for Honolulu.

  G.P. and Amelia left the hotel in Amelia’s Cord 810. They were headed for the Oakland Airport administration building, and on their way enjoyed the balmy breeze in the convertible. They needed to make the final arrangements for weather forecasts for Honolulu and Howland Island.

  “Good morning,” Bill Miller greeted as they arrived at his office. “I just sent a message to the Shoshone for the weather forecast from Australia and New Guinea.”

  “Great. Thanks, Bill,” Amelia acknowledged. “Have you seen my flight crew yet?”

  “Yeah, they just left for the Navy hangar. I understand you have a flight this morning.”

  “Just to check a couple of things and to give Fred a look at the navigation equipment on board,” Amelia answered casually.

  “I’ll arrange a press conference for you when you get back. We need to announce that Paul will be joining the flight, as far as Honolulu,” G.P. said.

  Amelia headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Amelia said to G.P., as she left the office and headed for the Navy hangar.

  The Electra had been pushed out of the hangar and was fueled and ready to go by the time Amelia arrived. She noticed that Bo McKneely and Daric were both there, talking with her flight crew.

  “Good morning, you two. I didn’t expect to see you here this morning.” Amelia was pleased, though, that they were.

  “Anything to do with that aircraft concerns me,” Bo asserted firmly. “Until it leaves here, that is. I, rather we, just wanted to make sure that everything went as planned this morning and that if anything needed attending to, we’d be here to make it right.” Bo was committed to making the Electra the envy of aviation lore.

  “Great,” Amelia acknowledged. “Daric, can I see you for a moment, in private?” Amelia ducked around a corner in the hangar, with Daric close on her heels.

  “Here,” Amelia said, as she handed Daric a small package. She wasn’t one for sentiment and she wanted to get this over with quickly. “Open it.”

  Daric stripped the paper away to reveal a beautiful red Victorinox Swiss Army knife. He looked up at Amelia, puzzled.

  “It’s to replace the pocket knife you lost back in Burbank and to say thank you for all your hard work with the Electra,” Amelia explained.

  “I can’t accept this,” Daric protested, extending his hand to give the knife back.

  “Nonsense. I picked it up after my solo crossing of the Atlantic in 1932. We toured around Europe after the flight and that’s where I came across this knife. They said it would be a ‘companion for life’. Well, I’ve had it for years now and have never used it. I can’t even remember why I bought it.”

  “Thank you,” Daric said shyly.

  Amelia flashed Daric a gracious smile and then walked back to the others who were all waiting patiently.

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. This fine weather isn’t supposed to last long today,” Amelia said, while pulling herself up onto the left wing and making her way to the cockpit.

  Once airborne, around 10:30 A.M., the Electra soared over the Golden Gate Bridge, heading out to sea. The bridge would not open to traffic for almost another two months and would go down in history as the most beautiful and most photographed bridge in the world.

  Fred shot the sun with Harry’s octant, a device used for determining one’s location based on the position of the sun and the horizon. Although Fred found the octant somewhat awkward to use, compared to celestial navigation he usually used, he said nothing.

  Harry called the Pan American Airways station in Alameda. They acknowledged receiving his signal loud and clear. Unfortunately, their reply was received loud and clear too—so loud that Harry had to lift the earphones off his ears.

  After returning to the Oakland Airport, the Electra was pushed back into the Navy hangar, where Bo and Daric secured the airplane. It would stay in the hangar until the start of the world flight. Outside the hangar, a flood of reporters waited for Amelia, who graciously addressed them.

  “Paul Mantz, our technical advisor, will be coming with us, only as far as Honolulu.”

  “Miss Earhart, can you afford the extra weight?”

  “Yes, we are able to add the additional crew member, because our fuel consumption rate is better than we previously thought. Instead of starting with a full tank of 1,151 gallons of fuel, we will need only nine-hundred gallons, which means we will save 1,500 pounds.”

  “Weather permitting,�
�� Amelia continued, “we will leave tomorrow afternoon sometime between 2:00 P.M. and 4:30 P.M.”

  “Miss Earhart, why do you want to make this flight?” yelled one reporter.

  “I want to do it, because I want to do it,” Amelia replied sassily. Taking on a more serious tone, she added, “Please know that I am aware of the hazards. Women must try to do things as men have tried. When they fail, their failure must be but a challenge to others. I want to stir the interest of women in aviation. Additionally, we will test some of the latest scientific aids to aerial navigation.”

  After the press conference, Bill Miller’s secretary handed Amelia a message from Kelly Johnson. It was the new power settings they had requested. Comparing the two different power charts, she understood why Kelly was so adamant they stay within 2,000 feet of the recommended altitude. The fuel consumption rates at 4,000 feet compared to 8,000 feet would result in burning an extra twelve gallons of fuel.

  35

  “Damn, I forgot my hat back at the hangar,” Daric berated himself.

  “You’d forget your head, if it wasn’t attached,” Dani muttered sarcastically.

  Paul was waiting in the Cadillac, with Terry, to take them to San Francisco Pier 35, for their 4:00 P.M. departure to Honolulu.

  “I’ll be right back.” Daric took off, running across the asphalt toward the Navy hangar, before his sister could argue further.

  “We’re going to miss the boat,” she shouted after her brother. With those words echoing in her ears, she muttered, “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  Daric approached the hangar door where a solider was standing guard. Recognizing the young man, the soldier unlocked and opened the door to allow him access. “I just need to grab my hat. I’ll just be a minute,” Daric said.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Daric caught a glimpse of a figure darting through the shadows in the back of the hangar, then fleeing out the back door.

  “Hey,” Daric yelled. “Wait! What are you doing in here?”

  Daric ran after the figure, but by the time he had crossed the hangar and reached the back door, there was no sign of the intruder, just an empty field beyond.

  “What’s all the ruckus?” The soldier at the front door had entered the hangar to see what was going on.

  “Did you let anyone else in here?” Daric asked, clearly concerned.

  “Just you. Place’s been locked up tight as a drum since you left here earlier today,” the soldier assured him. He made his way to the back of the hangar where Daric stood scanning the area outside, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder.

  “Been given direct orders not to let nobody in this here hangar, if they ain’t on this here list,” the soldier drawled, referring to the short list on his clipboard.

  “I just saw someone run out this door,” said Daric. “By the time I got here, he was gone.”

  “That there door is always locked. Never been used; only there for emergencies, you know, like another way out of here,” the soldier said as he bent over to examine the lock.

  “Hey, this here lock’s been busted. I better contact maintenance to fix it, right quick,” the soldier said firmly.

  Daric was picking up a faint odor. He could swear he had come across it before, but couldn’t quite put his finger on where or when. “Do you smell anything strange?”

  “This here honker can’t smell anything, not with my allergies,” the soldier replied, pointing to his rather large puffy red nose.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Daric said skeptically. He grabbed his hat and was heading back toward the front door. “Can you make sure that lock gets fixed, today?”

  “Sure thing,” the soldier replied.

  “Thanks.” Daric left the Navy hangar and made his way back to the airport office, where his sister was bound to be furious for his untimely delay.

  “It’s about time. What took you so long?” Daric was right. Dani was upset.

  “I caught someone in the hangar,” Daric said.

  “Who?” Dani asked abruptly.

  “Well, I didn’t actually catch him. There was someone around the plane when I got there, but he ran out the back door. I didn’t even get a good look at him. And he had to break the lock on the door to get into the hangar.”

  “What was he doing around the airplane?”

  “I don’t know, but I know I don’t like it. Something just doesn’t feel right. Strange thing, though; he was wearing Navy fatigues. So why would he need to run away when he saw me?”

  “Well, not much we can do about it now. Come on. Paul and Terry are waiting in the car. We have to get to the Pier.” Dani ushered Daric over to the waiting car.

  36

  The S.S. Malolo, Hawaiian for “flying fish” was as long as two city blocks and was the widest ship afloat at eighty-three feet. She was also known as one of the world’s fastest passenger ships with her top speed at twenty-one knots. Her superstructure was all white, with two masts and two tall yellow funnels, whose tops were ringed in black. Just below the black, each funnel was emblazoned with a blue “M”, the traditional logo of the Matson Lines. She was considered the most luxurious liner to have been built in the United States.

  The late afternoon sun shining on the ship’s gleaming white hull was in stark contrast to the dark waters in whose arms it was being cradled. The pier was a bustle of freight, cargo, passengers and well-wishers. Paul had parked the car and was carrying Terry’s luggage to the boarding ramp. Dani and Daric were a few paces ahead of them.

  Before Daric boarded, he felt he needed to tell Paul about the intruder.

  “Paul, there was someone in the hangar when I went back to get my hat. When he saw me, he ran out the back door which has always been locked. I don’t know who he was or what he was doing there, but I thought you should know.”

  “It was probably just one of the maintenance guys,” Paul offered.

  “Then, why did he run when he saw me, and why was the lock on the back door broken?” Daric countered.

  “Don’t worry about it, Daric, everything will be fine. Come on, now, you need to get on board and I need to say goodbye to Terry,” Paul reassured. He was getting a little impatient since he wanted to spend these last few minutes with his fiancée in relative privacy.

  “I just have a strange feeling, that’s all.” Then, Daric suddenly realized he had told no one about Burbank.

  “And there was this guy in the United Air Services hangar, too. I found him in a storage room with the lights off. He gave me an explanation I thought made sense at the time, but now I’m not so sure,” Daric persisted.

  “Look, I’ll mention it to Bo. He’ll keep a close eye on the Electra. And I’ll even ask the base commander to put an extra detail on the hangar. Okay?” Paul asked pointedly.

  “I guess,” Daric conceded; he knew he couldn’t do anything more. “See you in Honolulu, Paul. Have a safe flight.”

  Daric walked away, meeting up with his sister at the base of the boarding ramp. They were waiting for Terry to join them before they boarded.

  “It’s a good thing security isn’t anything like it is today . . . I mean back home or we’d never get aboard,” Dani whispered.

  “Never get aboard?” Terry had overheard the last part of the conversation. Terry Minor was a little slip of a thing; at five-foot-two, she would barely tip one-hundred pounds on the scale, even soaking wet. She had flaming-red shoulder-length hair and sea-green eyes.

  “I said if we don’t hurry, we’ll never get aboard,” Dani replied as they ascended the ramp, thankful she was a quick thinker.

  37

  Having stowed their luggage in their adjoining cabins, Dani, Daric and Terry made their way back up on deck for the casting-off ceremony.

  Terry quickly spotted Paul in the mass of people lining the pier, all there to wish their frien
ds and family a safe voyage. Paul was standing just to the left of the boarding ramp’s base. Terry frantically waved and blew him kisses.

  Dani was fascinated by the ritual of ship departures; even to this day, it was still a huge deal. Her eyes were scanning the entire pier, trying to take it all in: the impeccably dressed men; the glamorously dressed women; the deckhands, manning the ropes that secured the ship to the pier; the ship’s crew in dress-whites, preparing to swing the boarding ramp alongside the ship. The activity stopped abruptly, as a man made a dash for the ship, yelling something Dani couldn’t hear. The crew re-secured the ramp, and one of the ship’s officers checked the man’s boarding pass before allowing him access to the ramp.

  Dani stared at the man for what seemed to be minutes but was, in fact, only seconds, as he dashed up the ramp and disappeared into the bowels of the ship. Then it hit her and a gasp escaped her lips.

  “What?” Daric asked when he heard Dani gasp. He had been gazing at the “Mare’s Tails” in the evening sky, recognizing the telltale signs that the weather, over the next few days, would not be favourable.

  “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you,” Dani replied. There had been a lot going on and she must have been mistaken. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. Or the fading light might have been affecting her vision.

  “Try me. I’d believe anything right now,” Daric grumbled.

  “Okay, but I warned you,” Dani started, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I thought I just saw Uncle Richard run up the boarding ramp.”

  Daric spun around and grabbed his sister’s arms. “What did you say?” he demanded.

  “Ouch, take it easy. What’s gotten into you? You’ve been out of sorts ever since we left the airport,” Dani scolded. Something was bothering Daric; she could clearly see that now.

  Before Daric could answer or pursue his inquiry, the ship’s horn thundered, announcing their departure and preventing further conversation. Amidst the deafening noise, the ship pulled away from the pier and pointed out to sea.