The Airshipmen: A Novel Based on a True Story. A Tale of Love, Betrayal & Political Intrigue.

by David Dennington

  Everyone shook hands and smiled gleefully.

  Within half an hour, they were passing directly over flat, scrubby Belle Isle. Gradually, fog closed in as they traveled along the Belle Isle Strait. Below, they heard plaintive foghorns. The fog cleared when they reached the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Low clouds impeded visibility, but once in a while they spotted a ship moving smoothly through the black water and later, a pod of glistening blue whales breaking the surface in the moonlight.

  By the midnight to 4:00 a.m. watch (now Thursday), the cloud cover had gone and it became beautiful and clear. Giblett warned these conditions wouldn’t last, and as usual, he was right. Next watch, Scott being anxious to get to Montreal before dark, they put on two more engines. They ran on all six engines, though not at full power, at fifty-eight knots, bumping against headwinds, which reduced their ground speed to thirty-six knots.

  Lou visited the control car at 4:00 a.m. They’d reached well inside the Gulf of St. Lawrence, between Anticosti Island and the coast of Quebec. At dawn, with the sun coming up on the water, the scene was spectacular, with quaint fishing villages set in treed hillsides along the riverbank. Lou spent much time studying the landscape through binoculars. That morning, he wrote in Charlotte’s diary:

  Thursday 31st July 1930.

  What a place the Gulf of St. Lawrence is! Teeming with wildlife. Saw a black bear at the water’s edge with her cubs this morning. She stopped to look up. I wonder what she thought of us. We’ve also seen blue whales and bright, white belugas, elk and moose (good swimmers). No icebergs. Wish C was here to see this.

  Later in the day, two magnificent steamships, their hulls stately dark blue, topsides gleaming white, moved majestically along the seaway below toward Montreal. Disley entered the control car, waving two wires.

  “We have two messages. The first is from the Empress of Scotland, the second the Duchess of Bedford. Both captains send their best wishes and congratulations.” The ships sounded their sirens as they passed over, their decks lined with madly waving passengers. Freighters and fishing boats, swarming with seagulls, joined in, adding to the fuss, and then came the roar of engines, as a Canadian flying boat came by to make its own inspection.

  “It’s getting busy around here. Show these to Captain Booth. I expect he’ll send a response,” Lou said, handing the messages back to Disley.

  A damper was put on all things when the chief coxswain reported gas leaking from bags seven and eight. With Johnston left in control, Booth, Meager, Lou and Norway went to investigate, after easing off the power. The riggers, led by Nervous Nick and Billy, clambered around on the radial wires making an inspection, without the possibility of using safety harnesses. They found six slits in each bag, three inches long, some out of reach. Booth ordered the ship up to three thousand feet to make the bags move toward the riggers as the gas expanded. That worked, and Nervous Nick completed the repairs. About that time, Disley brought another message.

  Montreal Police Department Montreal Canada.

  Understand your position to be 50 miles from Quebec. Please advise us of your ETA so that we can manage the traffic and welcoming spectators gathering at St Hubert Aerodrome. Sincerely Chief of Police Montreal.

  Meager asked Lou to show the message to Booth, at lunch in the dining room.

  “This wire just came in from the Montreal Police, Captain,” Lou said laying the wire on the table. Booth read it. Scott was sitting on another table nursing a brandy.

  “What have you got there?” he grunted. Booth showed him the message. “Tell them we’ll arrive before sunset.” Then, checking his watch, “One-thirty. What’s our speed?”

  “Fifty-eight knots.”

  “Right, crank ’em all up to full power.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise, sir,” Booth warned.

  “Just do it! We need to get our skates on to make it before dark.”

  “I don’t like it. It’ll put unnecessary strain on the ship. She’s already taking a pounding. We’re up against a twenty knot headwind, sir.”

  “Maybe that’s not a good idea, Scottie,” Colmore said.

  “Reggie, we’ve got to push on. Booth, just do as I say, there’s a good chap.”

  McWade, who’d been sitting with Giblett, got up and left the dining room shaking his head. Lou returned to the control car with Booth.

  “Damn! He’s not supposed to give orders,” Booth said.

  “What do you want to do, Captain?” Meager asked.

  Booth looked at Lou. “Do as the man says. Full power, all engines.”

  Lou relayed instructions to the engine cars and within a few minutes all six engines were up to full power, slogging against the wind. Lou and Meager left Booth fuming in the control car with Johnston. Meager went to inspect the gas bag repairs. Lou went to his cabin and wrote in his diary:

  Thursday July 31st 1930.

  It’s a beautiful day with a clear blue sky. Coming up to the Saguenay River, which flows out of the spectacular Laurentian Mountains on the north side. Engines on full power against 20 knot wind on the nose. We’ve been ordered by Major Scott to reach Montreal before dark. Saw steamers today. What a sight! Decided this is definitely the way I’ll bring Charlotte when we come by sea. Then from Montreal to Washington by train. She’s gonna love it!

  Lou lay on his bunk while Mr. Jolson belted out his song for the umpteenth time. He thought about Charlotte until he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed she was holding up a baby’s shawl she’d made and was looking at it, her face like alabaster. There were tears in her eyes and they were running down her cheeks. He woke with a start with the sickening smell of mothballs in his cabin. After that, he couldn’t get the baby clothes out of his mind. She hadn’t made any for a long time, nor had she opened the ‘baby drawer’, where she kept them wrapped in tissue. He assumed they must still be there.

  Charlotte, I promise you, your labor of love will not be for nothing, my darling …

  He fell into another deep sleep.

  At 2:40 p.m. Lou was dumped out of bed. The ship was slammed by what felt and sounded like a freight train. The gargantuan Howden R100 had rolled onto her side and was rolling back upright as Lou came round. He struggled to his feet, the ship pitching wildly up and down and yawing to and fro. He staggered into the corridor holding onto the railings and grab bars. The dining room was in total disarray—cups, saucers, plates, bottles of ketchup and sauce, cutlery and food scattered all over the floor, chairs and tables overturned. Pierre was distraught.

  “Whatever is happening?” he cried.

  At that moment, Lou felt real sorry for him. “Don’t panic, Pierre. It’s just turbulence, that’s all,” he assured him in the most calming voice he could muster. People emerged from all corners of the ship with the same question, many of them, like Lou, having been catapulted out of bed. As he ran into the control car, he felt the power easing off. Booth and Johnston held on, looking stupefied.

  Booth yelled at the rudder coxswain, “Steer to the opposite shore. Cold air’s spilling out of this valley.” He pointed to the Saguenay River valley where the mountains each side reached four thousand feet. The coxswain swung the wheel, turning the ship away from the disturbed air and the turbulence gradually eased, then ceased completely. The starboard engine car telegraph bell rang, followed in quick succession by the aft car.

  “Lou, go and find out what their problem is,” Booth ordered.

  In the corridor, Lou ran into Norway who tagged along. Lou climbed down into the starboard engine car. The engineers pointed up through the window at the rear fins, where the cover was torn up and flapping. Lou bounded back up the steps. Meager had now joined Norway.

  “Cover’s all torn up on the starboard fins,” Lou shouted.

  They rushed along the corridor to the stern, led by Meager, with Wann, Nervous Nick and Billy in tow. Along the way, other riggers joined them. They examined the bottom fin first. Not so serious: three tears about three feet long. Meager left Wann to supervise two ri
ggers making repairs while he, Lou and Norway climbed a transverse girder to the starboard fin. There was more damage there, but no reason to panic. A split in the cover ran along the outer fin edge about twelve feet long. Two riggers were sent with needles and thread to make repairs, with Norway assisting.

  Lou and Meager moved to the fins on the port side, although they’d received no reports of damage from the port engine car. They climbed along the cruciform girder to the port fin to make an inspection. They were shocked by what they found. The fabric to the underside was in ribbons, flapping around a gaping hole about fifteen feet square. Meager sent Lou to inform the captain.

  Lou climbed down and went to the speaking tube in the stern corridor and signaled the control car. It was 3 o’clock. Booth answered and Lou explained the situation. Booth sent the chief coxswain and ten more riggers to assist. Meanwhile, Booth made the ship stationary, positioned near a small island, head to wind, with just enough power to maintain their position. Lou returned to the riggers. While they worked, they heard what they thought was the howling wind on the opposite shore. It turned out to be wolves howling in the canyons.

  The chief coxswain showed up with an army of riggers and a roll of canvas he’d stashed away. They were joined by Norway and his men from the starboard side, their own repairs satisfactorily completed. They stretched a system of cords over the opening, forming a mesh as a foundation. New canvas was laid over them and lashed down. It was like watching tightrope walkers at the circus, balancing on wires—their only means of support. Meager nagged the riggers to keep their safety lines fastened. The riggers were unfazed by the thousand foot drop and the bobbing Belugas breaking the surface and staring up at them. They joked that the Belugas wanted to mate with the big silver whale in the sky. The repairs took two hours.

  At 5 o’clock, during the dog watch, His Majesty’s Airship Howden R100 resumed her journey, but with less haste. They proceeded toward Quebec at fifty knots against the same headwind. As they approached the city, Meager decided to inspect the top of the ship for damage, with Lou and Norway assisting. Leaks in the cover had been discovered in the past few days, requiring repairs to the gas bags.

  Before going to the roof, Lou went to his cabin for his Sidcot suit. It’d be chilly up there. The room was still a mess. While picking everything up, he was upset to find Charlotte’s picture lying underneath his clothes, its glass smashed, her face no longer visible. He laid it face-down on the bedside table.

  At 6:00 p.m., Lou climbed the cat ladder to the roof with Norway. Meager had gone before them. They were over the city and heard the commotion below: ship’s sirens, train whistles, car horns and people cheering. While Meager and Norway made their inspection, Lou waited at the hatchway, his attention fixed on the sky directly ahead. It was an alarming sight. A fifteen-mile squall of sparkling, copper cloud, like a line of fire with ominous blackness beneath, stretched across their path. Above the wall, raging cumulonimbus cloud formations reached up to the heavens.

  When Meager and Norway returned to the hatchway, Lou gestured toward the storm. Meager’s face was stern. They made their way to the saloon, where Scott was drinking sherry with Burney and Colmore while stewards busily laid out a buffet on tables pushed together. Everything was spic and span once more. The meal looked delicious, with bread, butter, pea soup, ham, chicken, beef, bowls of mixed green salad and bottles of wine. Stacks of plates, bowls and wine glasses sat nearby.

  “There’s a bad storm ahead, sir,” Meager said, almost casually.

  Scott sounded bored and dismissive. “Yes, they’ve already sent us details from Montreal advising us to go around, but we don’t have time for that.”

  “We should discuss this with the captain. I’m about to go on watch.”

  Irritated, Scott drained his glass and plonked it down on the table. He strode off toward the control car. Norway and Burney went to the promenade deck to see what they could see from there. Lou and Meager followed Scott to the control car where they found Booth and Johnston standing with Giblett, studying the squall line dead ahead. They were alarmed.

  “I think we need to avoid this, sir. It looks bad,” Booth said grimly.

  “I must agree,” Giblett said.

  Scott’s face was as black as the storm. “Well, I don’t! We’ve already lost too much time.”

  “What’s the point? We’re not going to make it before sunset anyway,” Booth argued.

  “A fifty-mile detour for safety’s sake might be worth it,” Johnston said.

  “There are thousands of people in Montreal waiting for us!”

  “I don’t think it’s worth the risk, sir,” Booth said.

  Scott became more irritated. “We can’t bugger about. We’re already late and we’ll look ridiculous.”

  “At least we’ll arrive in one piece,” Booth said.

  “It’s just a rainstorm—nothing to be frightened of.”

  “But—”

  “Hold your course, Captain. That’s an order!”

  Scott turned abruptly and when he got to the stairs he stopped.

  “Let me know if you run into difficulties requiring my attention.”

  He went upstairs.

  “That man is a bloody menace,” Booth muttered.

  “Reckless!” Giblett agreed.

  The five men stared through the windows straight ahead. Night was falling fast as they approached the black wall.

  At 7:40 p.m. they felt the first tremors under their feet. It was completely dark.

  “Hold on boys. This is it!” Booth shouted.

  The storm struck with a blast, rocking and shaking the ship. It was accompanied by shrieking winds, heavy rain and hail beating the windows. A mighty gust lifted the bow and ran under the ship to the stern, as though it were a paper cup, tipping the nose sharply downward. Cameron, on the elevators, did his best to counter the effects, turning the metal wheel one way and then the other, to no avail.

  “I’m losing her! I’m losing her!” he screamed.

  The altimeter dial that read thirteen hundred feet spun to three thousand in a matter of seconds. Her nose, which was pointing at the ground, slowly came back up. A few moments later, they were hit by another, even more violent updraft. Again, the ship went shooting toward the heavens tail first, and again, the altimeter spun wildly, now to five thousand feet.

  Adding to everyone’s distress, all the lights went out, except those on the control panels.

  “Oh, bugger!” Meager said.

  Lou thought of Josh and Zackary Landsdowne in Shenandoah.

  Is this what it had been like for them?

  Charlotte’s alabaster face came back to him and her solemn goodbye.

  Perhaps she was right. Maybe she knew I wasn’t coming back.

  Other thoughts raced through Lou’s mind in milliseconds: Richmond’s strident words shouted at Norway about the structural integrity of his ship, and then the ‘Wiggy thing’ clinched it. Something dripped on Lou’s nose. He wiped it with his finger. In the glare of the instrument lights he could see it was red.

  Blood? Someone upstairs must be badly cut.

  He sniffed at it.

  No, it’s dope! Thank God.

  The riggers fixing the canvas had left a drum of dope open up there somewhere.

  Silly fools!

  “Look, we’re done for!” Cameron screamed, his voice breaking in fear. Everyone peered at the black horizon. A massive cross shone in the sky.

  This must be Heaven!

  “Okay, settle down, boys. We’re not dead yet! It’s the cross on Mount Royal,” Johnston boomed from the back of the control car.

  “Ease her gently down to fifteen hundred feet, coxswain,” Booth ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Cameron said, steadying himself.

  Booth issued further instructions. “George, go and survey the damage. Lou, get hold of Disley and get the lights back on.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Johnny and I will remain here. Oh, and if you ru
n into Major Scott, inform him we ran into a little difficulty—in case he hadn’t noticed.”

  “Right, Captain,” Lou said.

  “We’re through the worst of it. The cross tells us we are,” Booth said.

  “I think I’m going to convert,” Johnston said.

  “So you should, Johnny!” Lou said.

  Lou got Disley working on the electrical breakers and then went to the dining room, which once again resembled a bombed out ruin. He found Colmore sitting in the dark, surrounded by the buffet strewn across the floor, with broken plates and wine glasses from one end of the room to the other, and down the corridor to the bow.

  Pierre sat in the corner sobbing. “Oh, my Lord. Whatever is going on? Look at my beautiful buffet … Oh my Lord …Twice in one day …”

  “Pierre, it’s all right. It’s over now. Come on, pick everything up, there’s a good fella. Everything’s going to be fine,” Lou said, offering his hand. Pierre allowed Lou to pull him up, whereupon he put his arms around Lou and hugged him tight, his head on Lou’s chest.

  “Oh, Commander, what would I do without you? You’re such a comfort in these perilous times.”

  Lou glanced over Pierre’s shoulder at Colmore slumped in a chair, holding a flashlight in one hand and an empty brandy glass in the other. Lou broke free from Pierre and went over to him. Colmore was badly shaken. Scott was nowhere to be found.

  Probably crashed in his bunk.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Lou asked.

  “What can I say? I’m at my wit’s end. But I suppose if we can survive this we can bloody-well survive anything!”

  “Quite right, sir.”

  “I’m off to bed. If we were going to die today, we’d already be dead,” Colmore said, struggling to his feet. He staggered down the corridor toward his cabin.

  “Goodnight, sir. Try and get some rest,” Lou called after him.