Not to knock such a beloved figure, but Amelia had a lot of learning to do at that time, also- she crashed that plane on her first takeoff of that journey, and really was not a very experienced pilot, despite her few long trips.
The same thought had occurred to me but I didn't want to be the one to point it out. One wonders what she would have done next had she been successful.
Not all those intrepid record-breakers were experienced or even skilled pilots. I think of them more as the 'celebrities' of their time. They undoubtedly had a lot of guts but were usually either wealthy themselves or relied on wealthy sponsors. I wonder if they actually appreciated all the risks involved.
This reminds me of the exploits of Amy Johnson who was as famous on this side of the World as Amelia Earhart was in the US.
http://www.channel4.com/history/microsites/R/real_lives/amy_johnson.htmlFlying was a fashionable, if expensive, hobby in the 1920s. Captivated by cinema images of flight, Amy joined the London Aeroplane Club in 1928. Despite being told, after her first lesson, that she would 'never make a flier', Amy persevered and gained her full pilot's licence in July 1929. Resistance to women in aviation was fierce; Amy found it impossible to get work as a pilot. Instead, she focused on working with aeroplanes and, in December 1929, became Britain's first qualified woman ground engineer.
The longest journey
Amy now decided to prove herself as a pilot with a record-breaking flight. In 1927 Charles Lindbergh had made the first solo Atlantic crossing. The following year, Bert Hinkler had made the first solo flight from Britain to Australia. Amy, whose longest flight to date had been the two hours from London to Hull, aimed to beat Hinkler's time of 15 days.
Ironically she came to a similar end. No trace of her body was ever found.
Turbulent times
The disappearance of Amelia Earhart in 1937 during an attempted round-the-world flight, discouraged Amy from further record-breaking attempts, which were, in any case, losing their popular appeal as flying became more routine. Her marriage was also in trouble, thanks largely to Mollison's infidelities. The couple divorced, painfully, in 1939. By now Amy's career was in difficulties, too. Prospective employers either dismissed her as a publicity-seeker or sought to capitalise on her fame. The 'proper flying job' she had dreamed of in 1930 seemed as far off as ever.
The outbreak of World War II changed everything. The Air Transport Auxiliary (ATA) had been set up in 1938 as a ferry service, transporting RAF aeroplanes from storage depots to air bases and using civilian pilots who were unable to serve in the RAF. In January 1940 Pauline Gower, a pilot and aviation administrator, established a women's section of the ATA. Amy joined the ATA that May, glad of the chance of some everyday flying. ATA colleagues remember her as 'just mucking in with the rest of us'.
Beyond the limit
But the pilot who had spent years pushing herself to the limit had difficulty playing it safe. At 10.45am on 5 January 1941, ferrying an aeroplane from Prestwick to Oxford, Amy took off into stormy weather, saying she would handle it by going 'over the top' (above cloud cover) - something which ATA pilots, who flew without radio, were advised against. She was never seen alive again.
Amy's aeroplane was spotted over the Thames estuary at 3.15 that afternoon. Amy ejected (sic), either because the aeroplane had been fired on by anti-aircraft guns or simply because, after four hours in the air, it was out of fuel. A nearby ship, HMS Haslemere, attempted to rescue her, tragically, she was dragged under the ship and killed. Amy was the first ATA pilot to die in service. She was 37.
PS. The aircraft was a twin-engined Airspeed Oxford. ATA pilots usually flew solo.