Two Women

CCXXIX

Amelia describing the relative size of Howland Island, late June 1937

Earhart and Noonan remained grounded at Bandoeng as the mechanics worked like dervishes to puzzle out what was going on with the Electra. They repaired the glitch in the fuel analyzer (yet again) but whatever was wrong with the Electra seemed systemic: Another malfunction occurred, and after that one was fixed, another system went on the fritz. In turn, repairs were made to the balky cockpit instruments, then the Sperry autopilot, and then to the Radio Direction Finder. The ghost in Amelia’s machine was a poltergeist and it seemed to want to keep her firmly on the ground. 

Then, finally, as the Electra was pronounced repaired, the weather closed in. It rained unrelentingly until midday on June 27^th.  Perhaps a more superstitious person might have thought that the universe was telling her something, but if it was, Amelia (who often claimed to be psychic) ignored the messages.  The Electra and its two-person crew lifted off for Koepang, on the Dutch East Indian island of Timor, and raised it before nightfall.

Meanwhile, on the far side of the world, her friend, fellow self-identified psychic, and séance partner Jackie Cochrane set a U.S. National Women’s Speed Record of 203.895 miles per hour in her Beechcraft Staggerwing. Friends though they were, A.E. probably winced a bit when she heard the news --- she was sitting on the ground in enforced idleness while Jackie passed her by.

Jackie Cochrane

The Gremlin

CCXXVIII

Earhart and Noonan rose early on June 24^th. The work on the Flying Laboratory had been completed late on the night of the 23^rd, and Dutch authorities at Bandoeng assured them that the ship was good to go. 

A.E. was good to go, too. If there weren’t any more delays due to instrument malfunctions and bad weather, she and Fred might --- just might --- make it home for July 4^th. 

The props on the big silver plane began to turn at 3:45 A.M. After days of shore leave, she wanted to get an early start. She was aiming to make a landing in Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia, 1,631 miles away, by the end of the day. It was a long hop, and it had to be timed so that they reached Darwin before nightfall. The airport had no facilities for night landings and even if it had had them, the navigation would be tricky at best in the dark --- and they were consistently losing an hour of daylight in every twenty four hours by moving east. 

Amelia scanned her instrument panel --- and undoubtedly cursed like a sailor. The fuel analyzer was giving an impossible reading. She shut down the engines, climbed out of the cockpit with Noonan in tow, and vented her frustrations at the ground crew, who immediately began tearing into the ship to find the elusive gremlin in the instrument panel. It was after 2:00 P.M. when the Electra was certified fit to fly. Darwin was out for the day. 

Although their hosts suggested another day’s layover in Bandoeng, Amelia was going stir crazy. She had to fly. So they took to the air just to be there, flying the 75 miles to Batavia in about 35 minutes. 

They made only a brief stop at Batavia, and decided to fly on to the town of Soerabaya (today’s Surabaya), about 220 miles further on. While in flight, the balky fuel analyzer went bad yet again. 

A.E. scowls in disgust as she discusses the Electra 10E’s recurrent problems with a field mechanic at Soerabaya. His advice? Go back to Bandoeng for repairs. With no other choice, she and Fred Noonan backtracked for the third time during the Worldflight. Note the name “AMELIA EARHART” stenciled on the fuel drums

 

In frustration, Amelia wrote, 

We reached Soerabaya when the descending sun marked declining day. In the air . . . we found that our mechanical troubles had not been cured. Certain further adjustments of faulty long-distance flying instruments were necessary, and so I had to do one of the most difficult things I had ever done in aviation. Instead of keeping on I turned back the next day to Bandoeng.