fore the first attempted take-off. Obviously to have been detected in the picture would have brought premature publicity, and swamped all concerned with thrill writers and curiosity seekers.
For flying the Atlantic four years ago was deemed somewhat more venturesome and journalistically more spectacular than it is today. I wonder, for instance, if you know that the Friendship Flight was the eighth crossing and that its crew brought the passenger total up to that time to thirty? This figure is exclusive of the lighter than air expeditions. Since June 17, 1928, thirty-one people have crossed the North Atlantic in heavier than air craft and about twice that number have made the journey over the South Atlantic. Approximately five hundred have made it in dirigibles.
Today an Atlantic flight is, of course, still hazardous. But its chances of success have increased over those of a few years ago. Airplanes are faster; engines more reliable and facilities for weather reporting greatly improved. Today within a few hours one can get a weather picture of conditions over the North Atlantic whereas all we had were relayed at our expense from ships, twelve to fifteen hours late.
But I think that our desire for secrecy was dictated primarily by what was almost a superstition. We did not want to talk about what was to be done until it became an actuality. And by great good luck, we were able to keep any word of the flight
