John Stannage Flies the Lady Southern Cross

John Stanley Warburton Stannage was born to English parents in South Africa in 1902. The family later returned to England where John was educated. In 1918 the family migrated to New Zealand where John trained as a maritime wireless operator at the N.Z. Wireless College in Wellington. It was in his capacity as a radio operator that in 1929 he found Charles Kingsford Smith - literally! Stannage was the radio operator on Les Holden's DH.61 Giant Moth G-AUHW Canberra that successfully located the Southern Cross after Smithy and his crew had become lost and force-landed in remote north-west Australia. It was John Stannage who famously transmitted the message; "Found Southern Cross. All OK."

Later in 1929, Stannage found Smithy again - in England. Stannage was on holiday in England when he learned that Smithy was also in London. Tracking him down to the RAF Club where Smithy was staying, it emerged that Smithy was looking for a radio operator for a trans-Atlantic flight in the Southern Cross and so it became Smithy's turn to find John Stannage who immediately joined the crew. The flight was the first successful crossing of the Atlantic from east to west.

Stannage went back to New Zealand and the sea and on a voyage to Sydney he met up with Smithy who introduced him to his niece Beris who was visiting from the US. Twelve months later they were married! Faced with the requirement to forsake the sea, Stannage was offered a position with Smithy in Sydney.

Following the profitability of joy-riding operations in Australia, Smithy decided to take the Southern Cross on its second flight across the Tasman to New Zealand and it followed that Stannage should be the radio operator. Just prior to departure in January 1933, the Southern Cross was fitted with the latest radio equipment on loan from Philips in Holland. There hadn't been time to fully test this equipment but on the return crossing in March, Stannage proudly claimed that he was the first radio operator to talk to Australia by "wireless telephony".

Such was the profitability of the New Zealand tour that Smithy was able to erect a new hangar at Mascot. John Stannage was appointed manager (and a one share Director) of Kingsford Smith Air Service Limited. In August 1933 it was announced in the press that John Stannage had successfully qualified as a pilot having flown solo in a DH.60 Moth in the record time of 1 hour 45 minutes under instruction from Sir Charles Kingsford Smith.

 

The Daily Telegraph, Sydney, Monday 21 August 1933

 


On 11 October 1934, John and Beris Stannage along with Tommy Pethybridge, sailed from Sydney to Fiji as the advance party for the trans-Pacific flight by Smithy and P.G. Taylor in the Altair Lady Southern Cross. During local flying in California after the successful crossing, Stannage was unexpectedly offered the controls of the Altair. In John Stannage's own words:

 

We had occasion to fly to San Francisco, where Smithy was giving a lecture in the City Hall, and it was decided that we fly in the Altair. Bill Taylor by that time had gone on to England. We had had a heavy and very late night the night before, and when l awoke and saw a very dense fog l wasn't at all upset. l thought it would postpone the trip; but no! Smithy was determined to go.

When we got to the airport, and wheeled out the machine the fog was so dense that one couldn't see twenty yards ahead. l didn't like it a bit. Taking off in a dense fog, with power lines at the end of the runway, was dangerous, and having to fly blind right off the ground was almost madness. However, we piled in, and were off, smothered in white fog and depending entirely on the instruments. Imagine my consternation when Smithy said, the moment we were off the ground, "All right, John, she's yours."

Now l didn't want Smithy to think l was scared or incompetent; but l was in the rear cockpit, with little outside visibility any way. l’d never flown the Altair before, and l knew as much about blind flying as an alligator. However, I figured, if l could only hold her on a steady climb by the instruments for about a minute we should be above the low fog bank at 400 feet. Anyway, Smithy was there with the dual controls at his command; but what troubled me was that things could happen so very quickly in a fast machine like the Altair, and, perhaps, Charles wouldn't be able to rectify any silly mistake l made before we were into the ground or the field. Perhaps he was over-estimating my ability.

All these things flashed through my mind in a split second, and l gritted my teeth, stuck my head down in the cockpit and glued my eyes on to the turn-and-bank indicator and the rate-of-climb meter. Almost in an instant, we flashed out above the fog in a sort of sickening sideways climb and was able to level off and fly properly. Smithy chuckled into the earphones: ”That put the wind up you, didn't it? l’d better try and teach you to keep a course with the instruments. l'm going to sleep now so make your own way to San Francisco and wake me up when we're over San Jose.”

It took me a while to realise just what l had to do. Naturally I was thrilled, and a little bit frightened, because l knew Smithy could sleep anywhere. l carried on climbing steadily whilst l got out the route map and set the course on the compass. The United States route maps are marvellous things - true and magnetic courses noted for every route - so that was simple. The sun shone brilliantly, and I climbed her to l0,000 feet, the normal cruising altitude, and then eased back the throttle to about 150 m.p.h.

There couldn't be any more exhilarating sensation than flying in glorious sunshine with a blanket of dense fog below. Through the tog the peaks of the Tehachepy mountains glowed green and majestic below and l felt the most important and cleverest person in the world. l could see the fog was clear of the ground ahead and Bakersfield lay right on our course. At the peak of my delirious self-satisfaction, the huge 600 horsepower Wasp motor faltered, stuttered, and finally ceased. We were right over the mountains, with great blankets of fog covering the valleys. Even the great Smithy couldn't get us out. What on earth had gone wrong? l couldn't see the engine instruments nor reach the fuel tank cocks. I lived about three years in as many seconds. Suddenly, the motor roared into life again and another chuckle came through the earphones, "Sorry, I forgot to turn on the main tank. Go ahead."

What a relief that was; but the joy of the thing had been spoilt and I was nervy aII the rest of the trip. However, I found San Jose and woke Smithy. And Smithy's muttered ”Good business" was worth more to me than the Victoria Cross. After many other flights in the Altair the machine became so familiar to me that I used to feel I was there in that back cockpit on every flight she did.

 


Stannage does not identify the date of this flight but it was most likely on 11 November 1934 when press reports indicate that Smithy flew the Altair from Los Angeles to San Francisco with John Stannage as passenger. Stannage recalls that Smithy was “giving a lecture in the City Hall” and while he did give several lectures, the occasion was most likely to attend the Armistice Day parade which was led by Smithy.

On 1 December 1934, Charles Ulm and crew set out to fly from Oakland to Honolulu in the Airspeed Envoy Stella Australis. When news came through that Ulm had not arrived and was feared lost at sea, Smithy was having lunch with actor Will Rogers and John Stannage. After Smithy immediately announced his determination to join the search, caring friends conspired to keep the ailing Smithy grounded. It fell to Stannage to administer the knock-out drops which were doubtless prescribed by Smithy's treating physician.

John Stannage was again part of the crew of the Southern Cross on 15 May 1935 when the Old Bus departed for New Zealand on the aborted Jubilee Mail Flight. This flight is best remembered for the heroism of P.G. Taylor who transferred oil between engines in flight and in so doing certainly saved the aeroplane and probably the lives of all on board. John Stannage had attempted to emulate Bill Taylor's feat but was thwarted only by his lack of physical stature which could not bridge the gap between the strut which served as a walkway and the leading edge of the wing. Nevertheless, Stannage did contribute to the feat by providing his small leather suitcase and a thermos flask as oil receptacles. This near disaster brought about the retirement of the Southern Cross. Smithy flew his beloved Old Bus for the last time on 18 July 1935 when he flew her from Mascot to Richmond to be handed over to the nation as a museum artefact. Amongst the crew on that melancholy final flight was John Stannage.

While Smithy was in England preparing to fly home in the Altair, it was left to John Stannage, who held Smithy's power of attorney, to deal with the Commonwealth Government's lawyers over their tardiness in making payment for the Southern Cross. Stannage's refusal to sign an unsatisfactory agreement led aviation historian Ted Wixted to later observe; "By this act he saved Australia from the disgrace of such an agreement." Had this payment been made in a more timely manner, it might have been possible to discourage the ailing Smithy from attempting such a gruelling flight and return home by sea.

Following the death of Smithy and Tommy Pethybridge in the loss of the Lady Southern Cross on 8 November 1935, Stannage candidly admitted; "With the loss of Smithy the bottom fell out of my life."

It seems that Stannage did little flying after that, returning to New Zealand and starting a retail radio business in Auckland in 1937. This business closed one year later and Stannage joined the N.Z. Broadcasting Service as an announcer. In 1941 he was appointed manager of station 3ZB in Christchurch. After sixteen years in this position, he became manager of the Fiji Broadcasting Commission in 1957. The following year he was a guest at a Qantas ceremony in Fiji to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the first Pacific flight. Other guests included James Warner and Harry Lyon. John Stannage returned to New Zealand in 1965 and passed away in Northland, NZ in 1970.

 

 

SOURCES
1
Radio Museum (NZ) https://www.radiomuseum.org/dsp_hersteller_detail.cfm?company_id=20705
2
Stannage, John, High Adventure, Christchurch, December 1944.
3
Wixted, Edward P., The Life and Times of Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, Brisbane 1996

 

Issue
Date
Remarks
1
18MAY25
Original issue.

 

 

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