May 28th 1928, San Diego, California
The airship Susquehanna received a joyous sendoff today as her daring voyage to the North Pole began. The 700 foot long vessel lifted off just after sunrise, circled the city, and then headed off up the coast towards Alaska. Onboard were noted Arctic explorer Commander Richard Byrd, famous aviator Charles Lindbergh, and a surprise passenger, the new Mrs. Lindbergh. The couple was married only yesterday in a ceremony in San Diego. Their “honeymoon” will certainly be one to remember! Hearst reporter Herbert Mayweather is also aboard, and will be providing extensive coverage of the voyage along with Hearst newsreel photographer Stanley Ruthenberg.
May 29th, 1928, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Just after noon, we flew over the western Canadian port city of Vancouver, over halfway on the first leg of our voyage into history. As we circled the city, the crew dropped a mail bag full of letters as well as some of the photos taken by myself and the other reporters on board. So far the trip has been uneventful, despite rather heavy fog this morning off the coast of Washington which spoiled our planned flyover of Seattle. However, we were able to get a spectacular view of Mount St. Helens as we passed the mouth of the Columbia River just after sunrise. While we did not approach the massive volcano too closely, it was still a thrilling sight. Thankfully the mountain is sleeping quietly and hopefully will stay that way!
Regretfully, the Susquehanna was never intended to carry passengers and the accommodations reflect that fact all too well! My “stateroom” consists of a hammock strung between a pair of aluminum girders along with nearly a dozen other men. The only people with any semblance of privacy on board are the Captain, Commander Byrd, and the Lindberghs, who all have private quarters forward. Granted I think my bedroom closet has more room then their quarters! I must admit I miss the comfortable cabin I had on the Los Angeles last year in the Caribbean.
Now, as Vancouver fades in the distance, we sail on to Anchorage and our first landing since leaving San Diego Monday.
May 30th, 1928, Anchorage Alaskan Territory, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Normally I’d say we moored to the temporary mast here just after dark today, except that in Anchorage this time of year it doesn’t get dark! Our weather continues to be magnificent, crystal clear skies and calm winds made the flight up the Canadian Pacific coast to Alaska as smooth as if I was sitting in my den at home in San Francisco. We’ve come nearly 2,500 miles in the past three days, averaging nearly forty miles an hour. Not bad considering the difficulty the Shenandoah had during her west coast visit a few years back. At times the winds held her all but motionless in mid air for hours on end! We’re here primarily to refuel and check the ship over before we begin what some are calling the most dangerous part of our voyage, the flight across the interior of Alaska. Its unexplored territory, and despite claims from the Navy and Air Corps that they have rescue planes standing by in case something happens, we have few illusions about our chances in the wilderness if something forces the Susquehanna down. Colonel Lindbergh and his new bride apparently had a minor spat after arriving here. Apparently he wants here to stay here in Anchorage and take a steamer home to the States. She would hear nothing of it and that was that! She’s quite the spunky young lady!
Commander Byrd and Colonel Lindbergh actually arrived in Anchorage a couple of hours ahead of us, aboard the modified Curtiss “Helldiver” that will be used to make the first landing at the North Pole in about a week’s time. Its wheels will be replaced with skis once we reach Barrow, our final port of call before the flight to the pole.
We’ll be here in Anchorage for about forty-eight hours. There are reports of a storm over the interior of the territory, and Captain Hoyt wants to wait for it to move out before we head for Barrow. At least I’ll get a couple of nights in a real bed here, once we leave its going to be a couple of weeks before we return to civilization.
June 1st, 1928, Anchorage, Alaskan Territory, Herbert Mayweather reporting
We set off on the long journey across the heart of Alaska today. I must admit to some trepidation as I look out of the control car at the vast forests below and the mountains of the Alaskan Range towering ahead. It is only eight hundred miles as the crow flies from Anchorage to Barrow. Crows however, can fly higher than airships! Some of the mountains ahead, like the massive Mt. McKinley, are almost four miles tall! We will be following a winding route along the Susitna River valley, heading for Broad Pass, over 2,000 feet above sea level, but the lowest pass through the mountains. From there, we head for Fairbanks, the largest settlement in the interior of the territory. After that, it’s the Brooks Range, not as tall as the Alaskan Range, but tall enough!
This is the main reason the Susquehanna has been chosen to undertake this mission. Unlike the Shenandoah and Los Angeles, the Susquehanna was designed as a “height climber”, a high altitude airship modeled after the German airships used to bomb London during the war. To reach high altitudes, nearly 20,000 feet, the German ships had to be built very lightly, which made them extremely vulnerable to the stresses of flight at lower altitudes with denser air. This fact was not fully appreciated by the ZR-2’s British builders and it almost doomed the ship before she was even turned over to the Navy in 1922. During her trials, the ship started to rip in two over eastern England and it was through what many describe as one of the greatest feats of airmanship that she survived. The strengthening she required over the next few months reduced her ceiling by several thousand feet, but it was still far higher than her sisters. Only the Susquehanna could hope to safely cross the high passes in the Alaskan Range in the south, and then the Brooks Range which crosses the width of northern Alaska.
June 2nd, 1928, Fairbanks, Alaskan Territory, Herbert Mayweather reporting
The first half of the Alaskan crossing has come and gone and the Susquehanna performed flawlessly. Colonel Lindbergh and Commander Byrd took turns scouting ahead in the Helldiver, checking wind and weather, as well as confirming the accuracy (or inaccuracy) of our maps. At one point they discovered that a pass we were heading for was actually twelve miles west of its plotted position! We ran into some fog and rain south of Fairbanks and that made things a bit dicey for awhile. We had to climb to nearly our maximum altitude of 12,000 feet to clear it. Finally, about twelve hours out of Anchorage, we saw Fairbanks. Even though we didn’t land, it was still a sight for sore eyes. Between the two towns I don’t think I saw a single sign of human life, just vast expanses of forests, rivers, and mountains. One eerie experience was hearing wolves howling as we flew over the forests. I’m not sure if they were howling at the moon or us, but it sent a chill up my spine! We circled Fairbanks for almost a half an hour, dropping a pack of mail as residents stared up at us in wonder. I can imagine the sight we must have been to that small village, this giant silver airship, floating across the sky. Now we head for the Brooks Range, and Point Barrow, our final stop before we head for the Pole.
June 3rd, 1928, Point Barrow, Alaskan Territory, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Well, we made it, perhaps by the Grace of God, but we made it! At times last night it was not a sure thing to say the least. Just after midnight, as we began to cross the Brooks Range, a thunderstorm the likes of which I have not seen even in the Midwest rolled in. It towered above the mountains, and the winds came close to ripping the ship apart! Updrafts and downdrafts threw the passengers and crew about like rag dolls. The ship was running at full speed, with two men on the elevator controls to try and keep her altitude stable while we tried to run from the storm. It actually got to the point that Captain Hoyt had Colonel Lindbergh literally drag his wife into the Curtiss and make a run for Barrow. We could hear the girders groaning under the stress, and cables would occasionally pop with a sound like a gunshot! I don’t think I was this scared even when I was covering the fighting in France during the war! Finally, Captain Hoyt made a run for what appeared to be a break in the squall and got us through, lighting flashing all around us. If ever there was a time to be thankful for helium that was it!
Battered and bruised, the Susquehanna arrived finally at Point Barrow, much to the relief of Mrs. Lindbergh who was waiting for us on the tender along with her husband. The Colonel actually looked a little worse for ware, sporting a bit of a shiner under his left eye. He would talk about it though, and neither would his wife.
We’re going to need some minor repairs before we head out across the ice cap for the pole. The ship took a beating in the storm. There is a large tear in the envelope side where a wire snapped and ripped it open, along with damaging a gas bag. The tender Wright was sent ahead and arrived here a couple of weeks ago. Like the Patoka and Trinity, she has a mooring mast built on her deck and that mast is what we’re swinging from now as the crew scurries over the ship tending to her wounds. Thankfully, nothing seems to be major, but it’s going to be a few days before we can continue on with the journey. Regretfully, my camera was one of the many small items thrown about and broken during the storm. Hopefully one of the men on the Wright can fix it, or maybe someone has one I can borrow.
June 8th, 1928, Point Barrow, Alaskan Territory, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Well, we’ve just let go from the Wright and are heading off over the Arctic Ocean on our way to the North Pole. It’s a trip of just over 1300 miles, crossing the open ocean at first, then the polar ice cap. At least there are no more mountains! The crews of both the Susquehanna and the Wright have been busy these past few days patching fabric and replacing broken cables and checking the hull for any structural damage. From now until we reach the Trinity 1200 miles further away from the pole, we’re on our own.
Commander Byrd and Colonel Lindbergh have been double-checking the Curtiss and their survival kits in case something goes wrong. The plan is for them to take off after we pass over the pole, circle around for a good landing spot, then hopefully after a safe landing they will plant the flag, take some pictures, and wait for the Susquehanna to make her “harpoon” landing.
I can’t say I’m too sure about this idea of shooting harpoons into the ice to tether this huge airship in place. In theory, the harpoons will bury themselves in the ice, then small explosive charges will force out “barbs” which will secure the harpoon in the ice. These tethers won’t hold the ship fast to the ice along her length, only from the forward mooring position, allowing the ship to swing around in the wind. The ship will actually be “flown” while moored, with her engines being used to keep her from trying to drag her anchor lines. If the wind gets too strong to handle, men will be ready to cut the lines at a moment’s notice. Getting down from the ship to the ice will be a bit of an effort as well. A pair of rope ladders will be thrown out of the control car to climb down the twenty or thirty feet to the surface. It would be far too dangerous to bring the ship itself down and actually touch the surface. Good thing the missus put me on a diet last winter! Climbing up and down those ladders will be a real workout!
The plan is to stay “moored” for five or six hours at most. Some of the scientists who have tagged along want to try drill down through the ice to get samples to take back for study. We have a couple ice boxes on board to keep the samples frozen until we can get them to the Trinity which has a proper freezer to store them in.
Oh, by the way, I’d like to take a moment out of this recording to thank Seaman Shawn Reed on the Wright. He fixed my camera!
June 9th, 1928, Over the North Pole, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Commander Byrd and Colonel Lindbergh are preparing to drop from beneath then Susquehanna on their flight to land at the North Pole in their ski-equipped Curtiss Helldiver. So far the weather looks good, temperatures have been holding steady in the mid ‘20’s. There has been some ice building up on the Susquehanna’s propellers and it occasionally breaks off. Special aluminum panels have been mounted on the hull to shield the envelope from the ice which could easily tear through the fabric and possibly rupture a gas bag. One looks rather dented, but their holding.
Frankly, looking down at the North Pole, I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. It looks so…barren. There’s nothing down there, no landmarks to speak of save for a pressure ridge off to the south (but from here EVERYTHING is south!) I’m not sure what I actually expected, maybe a polar bear or two? Granted the scientists tell me that they stay well away from this area, no access to the ocean and the seals they like to eat.
Well, regardless of what’s down there, Byrd has started up the engine in the Curtiss and they look like they are about to launch…and there they go. The small biplane drops down away from the airship, then pulls up and starts to circle the area. A smoke bomb has been dropped to gauge the wind. It looks like its blowing at maybe ten miles an hour, with a few gusts. So far so good from the looks of it. It looks like they are making a fly-by of a landing site. They’re circling back around, it looks like they are about to make their landing attempt. Can you see it Stanley? Stanley is filming the event while I record into this wire dictation recorder the Hearst Company provided to make an audio record of this historic event.
The Curtiss is getting lower, it’s about to touch down…IT’S DOWN, they’ve touched down on the snow. The plane is still sliding along and…IT’S SPUN AROUND!!! The plane suddenly spun around and came to a halt on the ice. They must have hit a rough spot. I can’t see if there’s any damage or not, it’s too far away for me to see clearly. Just a minute while I grab my binoculars… (Recording pauses)
It looks like they hit a small pressure ridge on the ice. The left lower wing is bent pretty severely but both men have gotten out and are walking around the plane. In all the excitement of the landing I forgot to mention the fact that we are witnesses to history. For the first time, men are walking at the top of the Earth! Commander Richard Byrd and Colonel Charles Lindbergh have set foot on one of the most remote places on the entire planet, the North Pole!
They’ve sent a message by signal lamp. Apparently the plane is done for. One landing skid was ripped off and the wing is badly broken. They’re alright though. From what I can see from the control car, it looks like they are getting ready to plant the flag. I can see one of them holding it while the other appears to be setting up a camera. It looks like the flag is in the ground now. One of the men is standing next to it while the other appears to be taking a picture Now comes the real hard part, tethering the Susquehanna to the ice so we can drop the ladders and at the very least recover those two heroes! I’ll resume recording when the process starts.
They’re about to fire the first of three harpoon shots from the forward hatch. We’re aiming for a spot about a half mile from where Byrd and Lindbergh came down. It looks pretty flat, maybe a few small pressure ridges, but nothing that looks too serious. The first harpoon has fired, there’s a large cloud of snow thrown up so we can’t see yet if it’s in solid. The next two shots will be at one hundred and twenty degrees either side from the first shot, forming a triangular formation. There’s the second shot, this time towards the right side of the ship. Once all three are in place, they’ll test the lines to see if they hold, then haul the ship down to about twenty feet or so off the ice. A couple of sailors will then climb down and check the anchor points directly. The mooring lines have been marked to show how far down into the ice the harpoons penetrated. There goes the last line. Now we wait to see if they are secure.
Well, the lines seem to be secure. We’ve hauled the ship down now so we can drop a pair of rope ladders out the control car hatches. Once those are out, the men will go down and check the lines, and if they’re ok we can go down to the surface as well. I’m going to have to end my recording here, the batteries are just about gone and we didn’t have the weight to carry extras since they’re quite large and just getting the machine aboard took some serious negotiations between the Navy and the Hearst company!
June 10th, 1928, Over the North Pole, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Well, I have set foot on one of the bleakest, most remote places on the face of the earth. Once the crew confirmed the lines were secure and anchored several feet under the ice, the scientists, media, and some of the crew climbed down to the surface. We were met by Commander Byrd and Colonel Lindbergh. Needless to say, Mrs. Lindbergh was quite happy to be reunited with her husband after his crack-up on landing. The scene was rather barren, nothing on the horizon regardless of which direction you looked. Looking around here, I can’t help but think of the many nations that seem to be racing to explore the South Pole. If it’s anything like this, I can’t see what it is they expect to find, except snow and ice, and even more snow and ice after that. But, I’m just a jaded old reporter, not a scientist. Speaking of scientists, they are busily working to get their ice cores and complete their other experiments before we have to cut loose. I decided to take a few pictures along with my cameraman, Stanley Ruthenberg, and then I climbed the rope ladder back up to the Susquehanna. It’s darn cold out there! At least on the airship I can get out of the wind and get a hot cup of coffee. We should be staying here for a few more hours, and then we head off across the rest of the ice cap towards the tender Trinity, waiting just beyond the ice off the coast of Greenland.
June 11th, 1928, Over the North Pole, Herbert Mayweather reporting
We cut the lines just after two this morning. I just can not get used to the sun never going down here, such a strange experience to see it just circle around the horizon, dipping lower and lower, but never actually going down. Commander Byrd was the last man to climb the ladder up into the ship. He reportedly left a small tribute to his late friend and pilot for the 1926 over flight of the pole, Floyd Bennett, who died in Canada earlier this year after crashing while on a rescue mission. There are few visible signs of our visit here, besides the wrecked Curtiss off in the distance. We’re taking with us several ice samples and plenty of photographs. It’s been quite a memorable experience, though I doubt that anyone will be booking any vacations to the North Pole anytime soon! There’re aren’t too many sights for prospective tourists to see, and the voyage here wasn’t up to Cunard or White Star standards by a long shot. Even so, being the first people to ever walk on the top of the world is something I will remember for the rest of my years.
June 13th, 1928, USS Trinity, Greenland Sea, Herbert Mayweather reporting
We moored to the Trinity this evening, a couple of hundred miles east of Greenland in the Greenland Sea. The airship is in excellent condition and after we off load the core samples to the Trinity’s freezer along with a couple of scientists from the Museum of Natural History in New York, we’ll begin the final stage of our voyage, the flight south past Greenland, Vinland, and on to Lakehurst for hopefully a nice warm shower and a comfy bed!
June 16h, 1928, New York City
The airship Susquehanna floated over the city this afternoon as cheering throngs filled the streets below. Cars honked their horns and ships in the harbor blew their whistles as the huge silver craft circled the island of Manhattan after its triumphant voyage to the North Pole and back, The voyage from San Diego, to the pole, and back to Lakehurst marks one of the greatest endeavors in aviation history and will be immortalized alongside Lucky Lindy’s flight to Paris, or the flight of R-34 to America in the first crossing of the Atlantic by air. Already some are talking about the next feat to be attempted, the crossing of the Pacific non-stop.
June 17th, 1928, Lakehurst, New Jersey, Herbert Mayweather reporting
Thousands crowded into Lakehurst Naval Air Station here in central New Jersey to welcome the Susquehanna back from our long voyage. It’s been three weeks and almost ten thousand miles since we left San Diego. Except for that terrifying night over the Brooks Range in Alaska, the weather was quite cooperative and despite the loss of the Curtiss on landing at the Pole, the mission was a resounding success.
President Coolidge was on hand to personally greet the ship and her crew once we were moored to the mast. He congratulated Captain Hoyt for leading the daring mission, as well as Commander Byrd and Colonel Lindbergh for being the first men to ever set foot on the North Pole. The entire crew has been invited to visit the White House in the next week and the ship will be participating in July 4th celebrations in Washington before returning to the west coast. There’s apparently some debate over whether the ship will travel the southern route over Mexico, or cross the continental US. A flight over Mexico would complete the circumnavigation of the North American continent and is favored by Admiral Moffett and the Navy as being the safest route. However, some Midwestern congressmen are clamoring for the Susquehanna to visit their region, something the Navy has been reluctant to do since the near loss of the Shenandoah in a storm over Ohio in 1925. With this being an election year, I wouldn’t be surprised if the latter route is chosen. For me, this is the end of my airship voyage. In a few days I’ll be heading back home to San Francisco via the railroad. It’s much more comfortable than Navy airship. The Germans should have a new passenger Zeppelin entering service later this year, that might be worthy of a trip or two if it’s as nice as the Los Angeles was.
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