Title: My Life

Author: Jean Batten

Publication details: George G. Harrap and Company Limited, 1938

Part of: New Zealand Texts Collection

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Chapter XIII: Buenos Aires and Montevideo

When the last machine had gone I felt again an overwhelming sense of loneliness. How bitter-sweet it all was, I reflected—flying about the world, visiting these great cities, meeting many people, making many friends, then having to fly off again. I consoled myself with the thought that I always saw the very best side of everything, and seldom stayed long enough in one place to have any illusions or ideals shattered. Therefore when I do fly away I take with me an exquisite cameo of impressions and recollections which will remain with me for ever.

Deep in reflection I suddenly saw something flash past my aeroplane. It was the fast fighting machine which the Colonel had sent to accompany me as far as Santos. My spirits rose and the loneliness left me as I waved to the smiling pilot in the other machine. It was great fun flying along together and holding conversation from time to time by gesticulations.

There were many islands dotted about, and we soon neared a large one, the Ilba Grande, which towered thousands of feet up from the blue sea. The countrypage 176near Rio had been mountainous, but this was even more so, and for the next two hundred miles there was scarcely a level stretch. The mountains on the coast rose sheer from the sea, and range upon range stretched inland, the jungle-covered peaks seeming to vie with each other for supremacy. The coastline was very broken, and I experienced many terrific bumps when crossing some of the rocky promontories jutting out from the land. The very strong south-westerly wind which was blowing greatly impeded progress, and I calculated my ground speed at approximately 120 miles per hour. "If this head wind persists I shall have to land for petrol before reaching Buenos Aires," I thought. The wind increased as we flew on, and over San Sebastian, an island just off the mainland and towering to an immense height, the ground speed dropped to a hundred miles an hour. I could see the other machine rising and falling in the vertical currents and battling against the head wind, which was over fifty miles per hour. There was no aerodrome or landing-ground between Rio and Santos, and we had not expected to meet quite such a strong head wind. With all my auxiliary tanks I had a good margin of petrol, and it would not delay me very much to land at one of the aerodromes farther along the route and refuel before flying on to Buenos Aires. The escort machine was not, to my knowledge, equipped with extra tanks, and I wondered if it could reach Santos on the petrol in its main tank. The military machine was a single-seater fighting aeroplane with a powerful engine, which would consume much more petrol than my own. Flying along- page 177 side, I asked the pilot in sign language if he had plenty of petrol. Yes, he reassured me with a wave, he could make Santos all right.

So strong was the wind that at times the machine seemed to stand still, and it was with a sigh of relief that almost two hours after leaving Rio de Janeiro I sighted Santos. Having been delayed nearly an hour by the strong head wind I could not spare the time to circle Santos. The leading coffee port of the world, it is built on a flat island, and is about three and a half miles from the sea. I wondered how the large ships managed to negotiate the winding channel leading from the open sea to the port. "Perhaps the current is not very strong," I thought, looking down on the muddy channel and the occasional stretches of palm-dotted sandy beach.

We had passed the town and were approaching the aerodrome when the escort machine flew up close to my wing. "Good-bye!" waved the pilot. "Good luck! Hasta la vista!" he seemed to say. I waved an answering farewell, and he flashed back to land.

It had been good company having another machine flying alongside, and I felt very grateful to the Colonel for sending the escort so far. There was still nearly another 1200 miles to fly to Buenos Aires, and as I flew on alone I missed the company of the other machine.

The wind dropped a little fifty miles to the south of Santos, and I climbed above the heavy mist hanging low over a huge swamp area. The mist gave way to low clouds, and for the next hundred miles I flew above a billowy white carpet punctured here and there bypage 178a green-clad peak rising above the cloud layers. My position at this stage was 350 miles south-west of Rio, and as I had to change course for Florianopolis at the 400-mile mark it was most important to descend below the clouds before doing so. Not knowing the exact height of the cloud layer above the ground, and considering the mountainous country beneath, I decided to fly out to sea for a few miles before gliding down. Altering course due east I flew for five minutes, until I caught a glimpse of the sea through a hole in the clouds, and gliding down through the gap flew back to the land.

Before me there stretched a great blue lagoon-like bay, which I recognized on the map, and turning the machine I continued southward towards the island of San Francisco. The country near the coast became flatter and the head wind dropped a little, and I was now averaging about 120 miles per hour. As I was crossing a promontory something prompted me to look back, and to my surprise I saw a large seaplane skimming low over the water. The machine, which I recognized as being of German design, was evidently bound for Florianopolis. It was good to see another aeroplane, and I glided down to allow the big seaplane to draw level. "No, you can't pass me," I smiled, waving to the pilot as I shot ahead. Passing over Florianopolis I looked back again, and saw the seaplane alighting on the harbour.

Situated on the western side of Santa Catliarina island, Florianopolis looked a prosperous town. Linking the port with the mainland was a big steel bridge.

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The island was large and fairly narrow with a blue lagoon, sheltered on one side by a range of irregular hills, the highest of which was almost a thousand feet. On the eastern side, about thirteen kilometres from the city, was the sandy aerodrome. I felt tempted to land and explore this lovely island, and see for myself if the city lived up to its name—"City of Flowers."

The wind increased in strength, and when flying across to the mainland I could see myriads of waves being whipped into a white, foamy mass by the wind, which swept up the narrow channel between Santa Catharina and the mainland.

The country over which my course now lay was comparatively flat and intersected by innumerable streams and rivers. Inland the mountains rose to great heights, and 120 miles beyond Florianopolis I left the state of Santa Catharina and crossed into the rich Rio Grande do Sul state. Although the head wind had dropped a little, its velocity was still about thirty miles per hour. As my progress had been considerably impeded by the wind I decided to gain time by taking a direct course to the deep-sea port of Rio Grande instead of flying over the big modern city of Porto Alegre, as had been my original intention.

Lakes of various sizes studded the land I looked down upon, and very soon I approached the swampy area adjoining Lagoa dos Patos. This large freshwater lake, although less than fortv miles across at its widest point, was very long, and I skirted its shores for well over a hundred miles. It was pleasant flying along the strip of land separating the huge lake from the sea, andpage 180I  counted many lighthouses, dotted at intervals. The presence of these lighthouses was explained by the channel at the southern end of the lake enabling ships of limited draught to sail up to the wide Rio Guahyba, which flows into the lake, and thence to Porto Alegre, a journey of 190 miles or so.

Flying on, I soon approached another lake, shown on my map as Lago Mirim, and as the time was nearly 2  p.m. decided to have lunch.

I was now crossing into Uruguay, one of the smallest but most modern and progressive republics of South America. The country had gradually become less mountainous, until at this stage, with the exception of an occasional line of hills, it was comparatively flat. The wind was still south-west, and I wondered if the dreaded pampero, a dust-laden wind from the plains, was blowing in Argentina. The constant head wind had seriously impeded my progress, although I had travelled nearly a thousand miles since leaving Rio, and had been ten hours in the air. Taking stock of the petrol in each tank I decided to land and refuel at Pando, an aerodrome nearly a hundred miles farther on, and used by the Air France company. Innumerable little lakes showed along the route as I skirted the hills of Minas and steered for Pando. Ten hours twenty minutes after leaving Rio I arrived over the aerodrome. As I glided in to land a swarm of insects like a great dark veil rose from the long grass and enveloped the aeroplane. The machine touched down, and, applying the brakes, I brought it to a standstill. The dark insects outside were beating against the wind-page 181screen, and some of the heavy, cumbersome objects flopped into the cockpit through the open window. Locusts.. . ugh! I shuddered, hoping that they would not fly into the air-intake. The propeller was cutting through the swarm as I taxied up to the hangar, and the locusts were whirled back and fell heavily against the windscreen and on to the wings.

The kind Air France mechanics soon refuelled my aeroplane and helped clean the locusts off the silver wings. "I do hope the swarm has gone now," I thought, taxying out to take off for Buenos Aires. The air was quite clear, and I flew on towards Montevideo without encountering any more locusts. As I particularly wished to make the flight from Rio de Janeiro to Buenos Aires in one day, it had been arranged that I should visit Uruguay after staying a few days in Argentina.

The solitary mountain to which Montevideo owes its name seemed to dominate the surrounding flat country as I approached the city. In the strong afternoon sunlight Montevideo looked like a fairy city with its flat-roofed white houses and lovely gardens. I was enchanted, and circled the town several times. From among the houses rose the dome of a large cathedral, and near by a particularly high building, towering up like a skyscraper. Turning towards the outskirts of the town I flew low over the military aerodrome in salute and on towards the civil aerodrome. To my surprise there were hundreds of people assembled on the ground to see me pass over on my way to Buenos Aires; so I glided down, and flew low across the aerodrome to enable the people, who were all waving enthusiastic-page 182ally, to see the aeroplane at close quarters. I felt terribly sorry to fly on without landing, but the reception committee was waiting at Buenos Aires, and had I landed at Montevideo there would not have been time to fly on that night.

Setting a direct course for Buenos Aires I flew across the River Plate. The air was heavy with dust-haze, and flying into the strong rays of the sinking sun I had great difficulty in distinguishing the sky from the shallow, muddy water of the river. My intention had been to land at the military aerodrome in Buenos Aires, but just before leaving Rio de Janeiro I had received a telegram from the Aero Club of Argentina asking me to arrive at the civil aerodrome of Moron, as a big reception had been arranged in my honour. My map of Uruguay and Argentina was of a very small scale, eighty-three miles to the inch, which contrasted strangely with the large-scale four-mile-to-the-inch maps used for flying in England. When there were so many other aerodromes on the outskirts of the big city trying to find the specified one with this tiny map was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. The instructions vaguely stated that the Moron Aerodrome was fourteen kilometres south-west of the centre of Buenos Aires.

The wind had now dropped completely, and as visibility was so poor I began to wonder when I should reach the other side of the great river, which measures over fifty miles across, and is more like an inlet. The distance to Buenos Aires on the direct course I was flying was a little over a hundred miles. There werepage 183many ships sailing up the River Plate to Buenos Aires, and I was overjoyed when I sighted the big capital of Argentina. Visibility had improved a little, and as I flew over the large docks I was astonished at the size of the city, the biggest of the Southern Hemisphere and the sixth largest in the world. It was totally different from any other capital I had seen.

High white skyscrapers reared their sleek lines above the delightful parks and plazas and the wide avenidas, along which the lovely blossom of the jacaranda-trees showed vivid purple.

Leaving the city, I flew in a south-westerly direction, keeping a sharp look out for the aerodrome. As far as my eye could see there stretched the vast, rolling, grassy plains of Argentina. The country was perfectly flat, and I decided that here indeed was an aviators' paradise. A forced landing could be made safely in almost any of the large fields, which seemed to gain in size as I flew inland. There was an aerodrome ahead, but was it the right one, I wondered. Yes, it coincided exactly with the description, and looking down I saw a vast crowd thronging the field, and hundreds of motor-cars lined all the streets approaching the ground.

Having landed I started to taxi the Gull slowly towards the enclosure. As I neared the tarmac the crowd broke through the barriers and, accompanied by a number of mounted police, who were unable to check its progress, surged towards the aeroplane. Quickly I switched off the engine, and only just in time, for within a few seconds the Gull was surrounded by the cheering throng. Hats were thrown into the air andpage 184arms raised in salute as I looked out of the window. For a moment I felt helpless, for it seemed that if I left the cockpit I would surely be crushed, and if I remained where I was my beautiful aeroplane would be unintentionally damaged by the enthusiastic crowd, which evidently meant to give me a welcome I should never forget.

The mounted police were powerless to clear a passage through the cheering people, who, apparently oblivious of the rearing horses, were pressing forward. The police were using their whips now. Hoping that if I left the machine the crowd would follow I opened the door and stepped out on the wing. Great bouquets were thrust into my arms, and I was literally pulled off the wing on to the shoulders of the crowd and carried in triumph to the reception in the club-house. "My aeroplane!" I gasped to the smiling people around me.

Mi aeroplano!" But the words were drowned by thousands of lusty voices expressing their joy at my arrival. Looking back, I saw the machine, safe and sound, being wheeled across the aerodrome towards the hangars. "What a welcome!" I thought, waving to the happy people.

As we neared the enclosure the crowd assumed even greater proportions. The girl who had thrust the bouquets into my arms was one of Argentina's own airwomen, and near the club-house she helped me to the ground. I was greeted by the reception committee, including a number of British residents. The President of the Aero Club of Argentina gave me the medal of the Gran Premio de Honor on behalf of the club topage 185commemorate my flight, the first by a woman from England to Argentina. It was engraved with the date of my landing at Buenos Aires: November 24, 1935. I was also made a life member of the Aero Club and received the gold badge.

In a short speech of thanks I said a few words in Spanish. The crowd was delighted. Camera men had wrenched one door from its hinges and broken several windows in their enthusiasm to take photographs, and every few seconds the click of their cameras punctuated the speeches of welcome. Once again I was lifted shoulder-high and carried to a motor-car, for which mounted police endeavoured to clear a path.

"I want to get my luggage from the aeroplane," I said to the British Air Attache, who was near me at the reception. He kindly offered to bring my kit to the hotel for me.

The car proceeded at a slow pace through the unending line of smiling, waving people, and it was almost dark when we finally arrived in Buenos Aires. I heard later that it took several hours for the crowd to disperse, and until late that night the cars were streaming back to the city.

"What a magnificent welcome!" I said to members of the British community who accompanied me in the car.

I had accepted a very cordial invitation from the Commander of the military air base of El Palomar, Colonel Zuloaga, to fly my aeroplane over to that aerodrome, so the following morning I drove out to the civil aerodrome. The military aerodrome was only a fewpage 186miles distant, and it was arranged that the British Air Attache, Wing-Commander Park, who spoke Spanish fluently and proved a very good friend, should drive over and meet me with the car.

Climbing into the cockpit I waved good-bye, and taxying to the end of the aerodrome turned into wind and took off. It was a lovely sunny morning, and within a few minutes I arrived over the military aerodrome of El Palomar. Landing I taxied up to the big tarmac, on which were assembled a large number of officers in smart khaki uniforms. As I switched off the engine and stepped out of the cockpit one of the officers stepped forward and addressed me in Spanish. It was the Commander of the base, and after congratulating me on my flight and welcoming me to El Palomar he called forward some of his officers and introduced them. Would I care to accompany him to the mess and take some refreshment, asked the Commander. It was very hot in the sun, and I was delighted to accept his invitation.

As we neared the officers' mess we walked through a most beautiful garden. Roses grew in profusion, and there were cool palm-trees at intervals.

"What a beautiful aerodrome!" I cried, stopping to admire the abundance of flowers.

"There is also a swimming-pool," one of the officers told me, as I remarked on the modern aerodrome and we entered the cool lounge of the low, flat-roofed white building.

It was not long before Wing-Commander Park arrived, and to my delight the Commander announcedpage 187that a luncheon was to be given in my honour at El Palomar one day during my stay.

That night a reception was held by members of the large British community resident in Buenos Aires, and I met the British Ambassador, Sir Nevile Henderson, who had taken a great interest in my flight.

The next few days were crowded ones. Many other receptions were given in my honour, and at one of them I met several of my own countrymen and women, and was surprised to find that so many New Zealanders lived in Argentina.

One evening I dined at the British Embassy, and was very pleased to hear that the Ambassador intended to present me to the President of Argentina, Señor Justo.

Wonderful hospitality was shown to me by the British and Argentine people, and those happy days will live long in my memory. One firm presented me with a complete wardrobe, and managed as if by magic to make a tailored linen suit for me almost overnight.

Buenos Aires has been called "the Paris of the Southern Hemisphere," and although I do not like comparisons I saw that a large number of the beautifully dressed Argentine women wore Paris gowns. The shop-windows looked very inviting, and I noticed that several English firms had large branches in Buenos Aires. I was very sorry that time did not afford me the opportunity of exploring the interiors of some of the big shops.

One day, in company with Wing-Commander Park and his wife, I drove to El Palomar for the luncheon which the Commander, Colonel Zuloaga, and officerspage 188had arranged in my honour. We were met on arrival by the Commander himself and introduced to some of the officers' wives. The Commander's wife, who was particularly charming and spoke a little English, told me that although her husband had been Commander of the military base during the whole of their married life she had never before been inside the officers' mess.

The lunch was a very enjoyable one. After the many toasts I was surprised to see about three-quarters of the men present stand on their chairs, and with one foot on the table drink my health. My Spanish vocabulary was not large enough for me to understand what the smiling Commander was trying to explain to me, so I appealed to the Air Attache. "All the bachelors here are toasting your health," he said, as the men, amid much laughter, sat down again.

After lunch we walked through the lovely rose-gardens and inspected the aeroplanes. Just before leaving the base the Commander told me that he and the officers wished to make me an honorary officer in the Argentine Air Force, and would like me to accept a souvenir of their admiration of my flight from England, and which should be also a memento of my visit to El Palomar. One of the officers then brought forward a large box, which the Commander opened, to disclose an exquisitely designed large silver plaque with the emblem of the Argentine Air Force embossed in gold in the centre and the engraved signatures of the heads of the Air Force and Air Ministry. It was indeed a beautiful present, and a wonderful memento of mypage 189visit, I told Colonel Zuloaga and his officers as I thanked them.

The day on which I was to be presented to the President I drove with the British Ambassador, Sir Nevile Henderson, to the Government House, called La Casa Rosada because of its rose colour. As we walked through the hall I noticed several very beautiful pieces of statuary, and the room in which we awaited the audience was exquisitely decorated, and the Louis XIV furniture upholstered with blue brocade.

The President was most charming, and congratulated me on my flight, talking about aviation at great length. As we were about to take our leave he walked across the cool room to a stand on which was a large vase of magnificent carnations. With a spontaneous gesture he took the flowers from their vase and, bowing, presented me with the lovely bouquet. He was most courteous, and I received quite a shock on learning that an attempt had been made on his life that very afternoon as he left the Casa Rosada.

Shortly afterwards an alfresco luncheon was arranged by the Rotary Club of Argentina. The meat for the luncheon was cooked in the open. Great fires had been lit, and on a frame half-carcasses of beef were roasted whole. This was certainly a novel way of cooking meat, and it was just as well that the luncheon was held in the open, otherwise in the intense heat all present would probably have evaporated. I was the only lady present, and the luncheon was attended by hundreds of Rotary members. It was at this luncheon that I first heard "For she's a jolly good fellow" sungpage 190in Spanish. The occasion was a most memorable one. The President, at the conclusion of his speech of welcome, announced that the club had decided to give me the name of Clavel del Aire ("Flower of the Sky"), by which name the people in Argentina would always remember me.

When I rose to reply I was given an ovation, and before taking my leave was presented with a silver plaque for my aeroplane and a small Argentine flag, with the request that I should take it and a message of goodwill to the Rotary Club of New Zealand when I returned home.

There were, as I have said, many receptions given during my stay, and I thoroughly enjoyed every one of them.

It was a lovely morning when I drove out to El Palomar to fly to Montevideo, and the sun shone brightly as I stepped into my aeroplane, on the rudder of which had been painted the emblem of the Air Force of Argentina. All my friends were there to bid me good-bye, although I was only leaving Buenos Aires for a few days. I had been asked to land at the military aerodrome at Montevideo, over which I had flown only a few days previously.

Waving good-bye I took off, and after passing over Buenos Aires flew straight across the River Plate towards Uruguay. After my flight up the centre of the river when flying to Buenos Aires I had decided to take a slightly longer route back to Montevideo via Colonia, a seaside resort, as this would give me more opportunity of seeing the country. Down the River Plate manypage 191vessels were steaming, evidently bound for Europe with cargoes of chilled beef from the huge frigorificos (freezing works) on the river. I soon arrived over the coast of Uruguay and flew over Colonia, which reminded me of some of the towns in Spain with its flat-roofed white houses and the first bull-ring I had seen in South America. Altering course I flew on down the coast, which was really the bank of the big River Plate.

Uruguay takes its name from the great river which rises in Brazil and flows south for hundreds of miles to form the boundary between Uruguay and Argentina before joining the River Plate. The name ' Uruguay,' meaning "River of Birds," is derived from the two Indian words uru ("bird") and y ("river"). Undulating grassy plains stretched for miles, with occasional low ridges, but the country over which I was flying was not quite so flat as Argentina. I passed over an estancia, as these big ranches are called, and saw many cattle grazing in the big green paddocks. Some of the white houses of the estancias are very Spanish-looking with their tiled roofs, and very often have lovely gardens growing oranges, peaches, and most fruits and flowers in abundance, for almost anything can be grown in the rich black soil of Uruguay with its lovely climate. As my departure had been delayed I decided not to fly over the city of Montevideo, but save time by going straight to the aerodrome. This was probably why I missed the escort of military aeroplanes, which fortunately, however, arrived over the aerodrome shortly after me.

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There was a big crowd awaiting me, and as I landed and taxied through the long grass many people ran out to be the first with their greetings. As I stepped on to the wing I was welcomed to Uruguay by Señorita Olga Terra, the beautiful daughter of the President of the Republic, who presented me with a most beautiful bouquet. A reception had been arranged by the military authorities, and within the space of a few bewildering minutes I seemed to meet every one in Uruguay. The British Minister, Mr Millington-Drake, was very enthusiastic about my visit, and both he and his wife, Lady Effie, were very good friends to me. The tall, smiling Commander of the military base, Colonel Cristi, announced that I was to be made an officer of yet another air force—that of Uruguay—and pinned the lovely gold wings on my flying-suit. There were many British people present to welcome me, and I met the manager of the Central Uruguay Railways, Mr Hugh Grindley, who had very kindly asked me to be his guest during my stay.

On being escorted to the official car I was deeply moved to see that it had been draped on one side with the flag of Uruguay and on the other with the Union Jack. Stepping into the car I sat surrounded by a magnificent array of bouquets and accompanied by the President's daughter and some other charming young ladies, who were my companions during my stay.

Although it had been my intention to have a few days' rest in Montevideo I found that a number of receptions had been arranged in my honour, and I soon forgot my weariness in the company of the hospitable

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people. At a big reception I met most of the British residents, who gave me a very cordial welcome.

In all the South American countries I visited I was afforded a unique opportunity of being able to study flying conditions and to learn first-hand the views not only of the British residents, but of both the civil and military aviation people and of the members of each Government as well.

At Montevideo a banquet was given in my honour by the Director of Aviation at which I met all the people connected with the air and many of the Government officials.

Before leaving Montevideo I broadcast, and, to the delight of both the British community and the Uruguayan people, I decided to give the talk in Spanish as well as English. I spoke about the vital part that aviation must play in the future of South American states. During my flight from Natal to Buenos Aires it had occurred to me that the aeroplane took a very small part in transport. True, there were the giant Clipper ships of Pan-American Airways flying regularly from New York to Buenos Aires and right round South America. There were the mail services of the Air France and Condor companies linking Europe with South America. Apart from these services and the inter-state postal services conducted by the Brazilian military aeroplanes there was at that time little flying in comparison with the size of the continent. Taking into consideration the vast distances in South America and the huge areas yet to be developed there is no doubt that aviation is not merely the most economical, butpage 194the speediest and in certain cases the only feasible way of exploiting some of the vast natural resources of the great continent. Concluding the broadcast I said, "I visualize the day in the not too far distant future when there will be as much flying here as in Europe, when the whole of the South American continent will be covered by a great network of air lines carrying passengers, mails, and freight and every city will possess an aerodrome. Because of the size of South American countries and the vast territories yet to be opened up, the great natural wealth, and the huge populations, I think that the future of the countries of South America lies in the air."

During my few days in Uruguay I had the honour of meeting the President, Dr Terra, to whom I was presented by the British Minister, Mr Millington-Drake. The President was wonderfully courteous and most hospitable, and invited me to have tea with him and his charming wife. The President's house was very lovely, with its wide staircases and panelled walls, parquet floors, and softly upholstered furniture. The British Minister spoke fluent Spanish, and came to my aid when the conversation became too deep for my Spanish vocabulary.

At the civil aerodrome I met most of the aviators of Uruguay, for the Aero Club had given a reception for me, and I was made a life member. On walking through the hangar I was shown the aeroplanes belonging to the club. I was surprised to learn that the one ground engineer with the aid of several mechanics carried out all the work on the aeroplanes, even doing the completepage 195overhauls and renewing the Certificates of Airworthiness.

All the members of the club were very kind and friendly, and after bidding them good-bye I went on to the military aerodrome. On being shown over the base by Colonel Cristi I was very pleased to see several British aeroplanes among those I inspected.

At one end of the garden near the officers' quarters I saw a big wire cage. "What is that?" I asked the Colonel. "Our mascot," he replied, with a smile. I walked up to the cage, and saw that it contained a number of large birds. "The Condor eagle," said the Colonel, pointing to a huge bird perching on a rock. Its feathers were grey, and around the pale mauve-pink of its throat was a circlet of finest white down. The great bird stood motionless, its head held high and cruel beak shut tight. He seemed quite oblivious of the presence of the smaller birds, and must have been dreaming of his home high up in the snowy Andes, where the powerful Condor eagles have been known to fly at an altitude of 20,000 feet.

My aeroplane had been refuelled for the return flight to Buenos Aires, and I greatly admired the red, white, and blue symbol of the Air Force of Uruguay which had been painted on the rudder.

It was with great reluctance that I bade farewell to the many friends who had assembled to see me take off the following day. "Good-bye! Come back again to Uruguay some day!" they cried as I waved farewell and took off. Circling the aerodrome I could see thepage 196people on the ground still waving as I set off for Buenos Aires.

Flying back along the lovely coast I thought of all the experiences that had been mine on my flight from England to South America. I felt a warm glow in my heart at the thought of palm-fringed Cape San Roque, my first sight of the great continent after crossing the Atlantic Ocean from Africa. Surely Columbus himself could not have been more pleased when in 1498 he sighted South America.

Much as I should have liked to stay longer in Argentina and see more of that delightful country, I decided to return to England by the Asturias, so that I could be in London for Christmas. I bade adios to the many friends I had made, and with the Gull snugly perched on the wide deck of the Asturias set sail for England on December 6. Seventeen days out from Buenos Aires the Asturias steamed up the Solent, and on arrival at Southampton I received a civic reception.

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