An Adventure in the Upper Sea
I am a retired captain of the upper sea. That is to say, when I was a
younger man (which is not so long ago) I was an aeronaut and navigated
that aerial ocean which is all around about us and above us. Naturally
it is a hazardous profession, and naturally I have had many thrilling
experiences, the most thrilling, or at least the most nerve-racking, being the one I am about to relate.
It happened before I went in for hydrogen gas balloons, all of varnished
silk, doubled and lined, and all that, and fit for voyages of days
instead of mere hours. The "Little Nassau" (named after the "Great
Nassau" of many years back) was the balloon I was making ascents in at
the time. It was a fair-sized, hot-air affair, of single thickness, good
for an hour's flight or so and capable of attaining an altitude of a
mile or more. It answered my purpose, for my act at the time was making
half-mile parachute jumps at recreation parks and country fairs. I was
in Oakland, a California town, filling a summer's engagement with a
street railway company. The company owned a large park outside the city, and of course it was to its interest to provide attractions which would send the townspeople over its line when they went out to get a whiff of country air. My contract called for two ascensions weekly, and my act was an especially taking feature, for it was on my days that the largest crowds were drawn.
Before you can understand what happened, I must first explain a bit
about the nature of the hot air balloon which is used for parachute
jumping. If you have ever witnessed such a jump, you will remember that
directly the parachute was cut loose the balloon turned upside down, emptied itself of its smoke and heated air, flattened out and fell straight down, beating the parachute to the ground. Thus there is no chasing a big deserted bag for miles and miles across the country, and much time, as well as trouble, is thereby saved. This maneuver is accomplished by attaching a weight, at the end of a long rope, to the top of the balloon. The aeronaut, with his parachute and trapeze, hangs to the bottom of the balloon, and, weighing more, keeps it right side down. But when he lets go, the weight attached to the top immediately drags the top down, and the bottom, which is the open mouth, goes up, the heated air pouring out. The weight used for this purpose on the "Little Nassau" was a bag of sand.
On the particular day I have in mind there was an unusually large crowd
in attendance, and the police had their hands full keeping the people
back. There was much pushing and shoving, and the ropes were bulging
with the pressure of men, women and children. As I came down from the
dressing room I noticed two girls outside the ropes, of about fourteen
and sixteen, and inside the rope a youngster of eight or nine. They
were holding him by the hands, and he was struggling, excitedly and
half in laughter, to get away from them. I thought nothing of it at
the time--just a bit of childish play, no more; and it was only in the
light of after events that the scene was impressed vividly upon me.
"Keep them cleared out, George!" I called to my assistant. "We don't
want any accidents."
"Ay," he answered, "that I will, Charley."
George Guppy had helped me in no end of ascents, and because of his
coolness, judgment and absolute reliability I had come to trust my life
in his hands with the utmost confidence. His business it was to overlook
the inflating of the balloon, and to see that everything about the
parachute was in perfect working order.