Back from the lake

When I was a boy, my Father used to tell me about Donald Campbell and Bluebird, the lost racer who died at Coniston in the midst of his attempt at the Water Speed Record on 4th January 1967. The way my Dad told it, Campbell and Bluebird disappeared - lost in the lake. It enhanced the romance of the story to think of the hero and his boat vanishing into history, but the truth was somewhat different. Campbell himself vanished so utterly that theories emerge that he had been sucked into the jet engine, his body reduced to tiny fragments, and there were even suggestions that he hadn’t been in Bluebird at all. The boat itself however was never truly lost. Naval divers visited the wreck shortly after the crash, and for a while a buoy marked the site, although it was eventually removed to discourage ghoulish souvenir hunters.

In 1995 rock band Marillion released the album Afraid of Sunlight, which included the track Out of this World, which paid tribute to Campbell and Bluebird. When businessman and keen diver Ian Smith heard the track he was inspired, and decided to seek out the wreck. In 1997 he first made contact with the Campbell family to discuss recovering Bluebird. Using modern sonar techniques Smith and his team re-established the location of Bluebird. Thus far, the work had been carried out in secrecy, and although had been discussion of bringing Bluebird back to the surface no decision had been made. When one of the divers on the team suffered an accident which left him unconscious, however, the mission came to the attention of the Daily Telegraph. With the rediscovery of the wreck in the public domain, Smith and his team were left with little choice but to recover Bluebird, to protect her from scavengers.

Reports as to the views of the Campbell family on the proposed recovery of the wreck differed. Gina Campbell, Donald’s daughter, herself a distinguished powerboat racer, was highly supportive. Tonia Bern-Campbell, Donald’s widow, seemed more ambivalent, although came in time to accept that, although ‘the boat stays with the skipper’, times change and perhaps the boat should be raised.

In March 2001 the operation began to recover Bluebird. Using a lifting frame, the boat was lifted from the lakebed. Once clear of the lakebed, but still below the surface, Bluebird was brought to the shore. On 8th March, with the aid of lifting bladders, Bluebird broke the surface after 34 years. Once cleared of silt, she was taken to Bill Smith’s factory in Newcastle.

Gina Campbell

With Bluebird recovered, attention turned to Donald himself. Gina Campbell, who had never really had a chance to say goodbye to her beloved father as she was out of the country when he commenced his last record campaign, felt strongly that, if possible, his body should be recovered. With loving simplicity she said “Find my Dad… I want to put him somewhere warm”.

Bill Smith and his team returned to the lake in May 2001. Through intensive study of the film of the accident which killed Campbell and their knowledge of the wreck scene on the lake bed, he and his team were able to narrow their search to the area where Bluebird initially struck the water on her first somersault. The film clearly shows that that initial impact tore away the hull in front of the intakes of the jet engine. The main spar still had one fixture for Campbell’s harness attached, but the others were gone, and the wreckage of the instrument panel suggested that, as Bluebird smashed into the water and the harness failed, Campbell was crushed against the left side of the cockpit, and smashed forwards into and through the panel, decapitating him and plunging him to the bed of the lake at or around the point of first impact as the rest of Bluebird somersaulted away. His helmet was torn off, and was found floating soon afterwards. Perhaps mercifully, Donald would have been killed in the first instant of the crash.

Using this evidence, Bill Smith and his team commenced their search of the lake bed 60 meters from where the main piece of Bluebird’s hull had been found. Smith himself tells the story of the discovery of Donald’s body at his fascinating site here (click on Retro Diary). Smith’s calculations had proved remarkably accurate. Using Sonar he had identified a number of targets in the area he had identified. Approaching the fifth target, his Remote Operated Vehicle spotted a fragment of blue cloth. Using the thrusters of the ROV to blow away the silt revealed a trouser belt. Smith and this team sat in stunned, reverent silence, gazing at what they knew must be the remains of Donald Campbell. When they came to review their video record later, they found they had say in their reverie for 40 minutes.

Smith had agreed with the Coroner beforehand the process he would follow in the event that he found Donald. He took extensive video footage of the site, installing powerful lights to illuminate the scene. A casket was lowered to the lake bed and positioned alongside Donald. Along with some personal effects (including his lighter, some coins and his St Christopher medal, a gift from Sir Malcolm Campbell, engraved ‘To Donald, from Daddy Nov 1940′*), Donald was gently transferred into the casket. On the morning of May 28th 2001 Donald Campbell, at rest in his casket, was returned to the surface. Draped in a Union Jack, Bill Smith and his colleagues brought Donald back to the shore at Pier Cottage - the place Donald had left from in 1967.

Later in 2001, the Campbell family decided to rebuild Bluebird to the condition she was when Donald set out in her on 4th January 1967, using as many original parts as possible. The fascinating story of this ongoing project can be followed at the Project Bluebird website, here.

On Wednesday 12th September 2001, Donald Campbell returned to the lake one last time. His coffin was placed aboard a boat at Pier Cottage. With the red ensign at half mast the boat proceeded to the point where Bluebird began to crash. To the strains of the bagpipes it then slowly sailed to the place where Bluebird lay for 34 years. After a short pause the boat returned to the Pier Cottage. Donald Malcolm Campbell CBE was laid to rest at St Andrew’s Church, Coniston.

* The St Christopher was a deeply important relic of her father for Gina Campbell. Many times she had asked Bill Smith and his team to look out for it, although Smith was not optimistic that he would find such a tiny item after so many years. In the event, the St Christopher was still on it’s cord round Donald’s neck. The tough adventurer Bill Smith was not ashamed to say later that he and his fellow divers wept went they realised what they had found. When he brought Donald’s body back to Pier Cottage he placed the St Christopher into Gina’s hand - it was then that she knew for sure that Donald was found.

[Updated - 01/07/08 to correct grammar and add the story of the St Christopher]

I’ve got the bows up… I’m going.. oh…

Ever since I was a small boy, one of my heroes has been the British car and boat racer, Donald Campbell, who broke 8 world records during the 1950s and 60s and in 1964 became the first and only person to set both land and water speed records in the same year.

Campbell was born in 1921, the only son of the great racing pioneer Sir Malcolm Campbell, himself the holder of no less than 13 world records. Unable to fly for the RAF during the Second World War as a result of a childhood illness, Donald picked up the mantle of his father on the latter’s death in 1948. For the next 19 years he would chase world records on land and on the water, a gentleman adventurer in a world starting to turn towards professional, sponsored record breakers. On 4th January 1967 Donald Campbell died at the controls of his Bristol Orpheus powered Bluebird K7 boat while chasing a new record on Coniston Water. It is the story of Campbell’s last charge that I wish to tell.

On my top floor landing I have two huge prints of Arthur Benjamins’ haunting paintings of Bluebird on Coniston. My favourite, Across the Lake, is a photorealistic image of the little blue trimaran speedboat, touching gossamer-light on the surface of the mirror-like water as she hurtles towards history. The sense of speed, power, and yet fragility, is powerful.

Bluebird K7 was not a new boat. Her first campaign was in 1955, after Sir Malcolm’s Bluebird K4, which Donald had inherited, suffered a terminal structural failure at 170mph on Coniston. Over the next 12 years Donald and his team of brilliant engineers would modify and adapt K7, ever searching for that next few miles per hour as they pushed the record higher and higher. Initially powered by a Metropolitan-Vickers Beryl jet engine, for the 1966/7 campaign she was refitted with a lighter and more powerful Bristol Orpheus plant from a Folland Gnat fighter, delivering 20,000N of thrust.

Campbell and his team arrived at Coniston in November 1966. Initial trials did not go well, with the Orpheus suffering damage after debris was drawn into it, and atrocious weather conditions. Fuel system issues added to the challenge, and it was not until January 1967 that K7 was ready for an attempt on the record.

Conditions on January 4th appeared good. Campbell made an initial North-South run, achieving an average of 297.6mph. The plan had been for K7 to refuel at the end of her run, but Campbell elected to commence his South-North run almost immediately, and without waiting for his own wash to subside*. As Bluebird K7 powered away down the lake, it seemed that this run was even faster, with Bluebird at over 320mph as she passed the start of the measured mile. Then, however, she began to pass over rough water from her own initial run. The little speedboat began tramping from sponson to sponson. With only 150 yards to go before the end of her measured mile, Bluebird’s nose began to lift from the surface of the water. Campbell was in touch with his team via radio-intercom , and they listened to his calmly uttered last words…

“Pitching a bit down here…Probably from my own wash…Straightening up now on track…Rather close to Peel Island…Tramping like mad…er… Full power…Tramping like hell here… I can’t see much… and the water’s very bad indeed…I can’t get over the top… I’m getting a lot of bloody row in here… I can’t see anything… I’ve got the bows up… I’m going…oh….”

Bluebird’s nose lifted from the lake, and the Bristol Orpheus powered her into the air at a 45-degree angle. She somersaulted, plunging nose first back into the lake, cartwheeling end over end amid a great plume of spray, chunks of wreckage hurtling in all directions.

Across the radio net came the quintessentially British voice of one of the support crew.. ” Tango to Base, Tango to Base…. complete accident I’m afraid.. over”

The impact broke Bluebird’s nose away across the line of the back of the cockpit, in front of the air intakes. Campbell was killed instantly, his body hurled clear of the main part of the hull. Bluebird K7 sank within seconds.

Support crew raced to scene. Plucked from among the floating, swirling debris was Mr Whoppit, Campbell’s Teddy Bear Mascot. Of Campbell himself, there was no sign. Royal Navy divers soon located the wreck of Bluebird K7 in 140 feet of water, but were unable to find any trace of Campbell’s body.

Opinion differs over the cause of the crash. Perhaps it was a combination of the disturbed water from the initial run combined with a lighter, unrefueled boat. Maybe some failure in the jet engine destabilised the boat. Ultimately Donald’s luck, which any racer needs in abundance, ran out.

Campbell became part of the mythos of the Lakes, his body lost, seemingly forever, in the waters of Coniston, a perhaps slightly anachronistic relic of an age where a gentleman and his friends could set world record after world record through bravery, brilliant engineering prowess and sheer good luck.

He became the man in the lake, a ghostly presence hanging over Coniston. I remember, in the early ’80s, on a school trip to the Lake District, looking out over the lake and thinking to myself.. You’re out there somewhere, just out of view, just beyond perception, still racing for the record. Tramping like mad. Amid the bloody row. Brave as they come.

The day after his death, and in defiance of orders, a Vulcan bomber passed low over Coniston, and dipped its wings in salute.

Today, I suppose Campbell is a footnote. I’m not sure whether there is much place in the sadly depleted Britain of today for men of Campbell’s calibre. But I remember him, and so do many others, as a hero and as one who embodied, along with his colleagues, much that was good about Britain.

But Campbell was not entirely lost, and in a future post I will tell of how Bluebird K7 and Donald Campbell returned from their long rest on the bed of Coniston Water.

Campbell was portrayed in the film “Across the Lake” by Anthony Hopkins. This little video from YouTube, set to Marillion’s Out of This World (about Campbell), includes real footage of the last run, and a very realistic mock up of Bluebird K7.

* The story goes that the night before the last run, while playing cards, Donald had been dealt an unlucky hand. Intensely superstitious, did Donald believe he was doomed.. that there was no point in waiting or refueling as he was going to die anyway, and that all that mattered was that, as he had expressed to his card partners, that he was “going bloody fast at the time”?

Marillion

I’ve been a fan of Marillion since they started in Aylesbury in the early ’80s (although I have to confess to feeling they’ve gone slightly off the boil in the last couple of years…)

If you mention them to a non-fan, the only two things they will ‘know’ about them is the song Kayleigh (which dates 99% of girls with that name to a year of birth of 1985) and the fact that the lead singer is called Fish. Fish (aka Derek Dick, who has a low profile but creatively brilliant solo career of his own) left the band in the mid-80s.

These days, and since Fish moved on, the lead vocalist is Steve ‘H’ Hogarth. These are two of my favourite Marillion tracks. Both are album tracks. The first, the chilling The Hollow Man, is from their concept album Brave (1994). The second is the epic Quartz from Anoraknophobia (2001).

“… we’re tin-hard.. and we rattle when we’re shaken…”

Nordic Totty

The thing is, Norwegian girls are even better (although there are fewer of them!)

From EatLiver.

A good evening

Been to rather a good barbecue this evening (splendid venison burgers from my sister-in-law’s farm). Finished the evening off with a spot of light commenting, aided by one of the finest ales available to humanity… the Old Speckled Hen.

Wishful thinking from Pravda

Some wishful thinking here from the Sparts at Pravda the BBC, reporting the latest YouGov poll.

(Picture from Moonbat Nibbler, courtesy of Biased BBC, who also have a report of more flagrant anti-Tory bias from the wretched Nick Robinson)

Oh No You’re Not

(Picture from Iain Dale)

Congratulations to John Howell, who overcame an unfortunate resemblance to David Mellor and a particularly nasty (even by their unedifying standards) campaign by the Yellow Peril (who, in a battle of the lookalikes, fielded a man who looked like Lovejoy) to be elected MP for Henley, replacing the mighty Bozza.

I live just outside the constituency and always found it very hard to imagine any result different to the one we’ve just seen, but given the level of ramping by LibDems on Political Betting and elsewhere I was bracing myself for a shock. Fortunately Henley lived up to it’s true blue reputation and the Tories took votes from both Labour (who came humiliatingly fifth behind the Greens and, disturbingly, the BNP) and the Yellow Peril.

RIP - Nigel Hammond

I was sad to discover today that my old Sixth Form tutor, Nigel Hammond, has passed away at the age of just 70. Hammond was an Abingdonian through and through, having been a pupil there and then spending most of his adult life teaching at the school. He was also a distinguished local historian and author on the history of the Vale of the White Horse. Among a large cast of eccentric faculty members at Abingdon, Hammond stood out.

A big, heavy featured and slightly ungainly man, his nicknames at school were Toad (which he tolerated) or Wally (which he detested). The nicknames led to the unofficial titles for the two local history classes he taught. For younger pupils there was a class involving exploration of Abingdon on foot, known as a Wally Walk. In Sixth Form his hand-picked group (of which I was a member) would pile into his Peugeot 309GTI to go On the Road with Toad. He also taught GCSE History, and A level British and American Politics, having unsuccessfully fought two General Elections for the Tories (I think 1979 and 1983 but might be wrong here) as well as working as an older than average Intern in Washington for Senator Joe Biden. He retired shortly after I left Abingdon in 1991, concentrating on his writing.

Thought sometimes a little brusque of manner, and no sufferer of fools, Nigel Hammond was a kindly man with a delightful grin and a freeze-dried sense of humour. I last saw him maybe 5 years ago in the bar of the White Horse at Fyfield. Though 12 years had elapsed since I’d last seen him he hadn’t really changed, and we reminisced a while over a pint of beer. His scholarly interest in the history of Abingdon and the Vale will be much missed. I will remember him with affection for having nurtured my interest in Politics (and nominating me for the Politics Prize in my Upper 6th year), and feel a little sad that I only heard of his death today, the day of his funeral. I would have liked to have gone to say goodbye. Requiescat in Pace, Nigel.

Bloody Rocks!

Some b*stard rock has leaped up from the road and smashed the windscreen of my car. Bah!

Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust - Sigur Ros

Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is the new album by Icelandic band Sigur Ros. It came out on Monday and I’ve been listening to it on my iPod ever since.

As always sung in a blend of the made up language Vonlenska which sounds simultaneously a bit like Icelandic and a lot like nothing else on Earth, Icelandic proper and one track English, it manages to be deeply moving in places and hypnotic in others. More accessible than any of their previous work, it’s a good place to enter the weird, haunting world of Sigur Ros. The first single is available to be downloaded for free from their website, here.

The band name, incidentally, apparently means Victory Rose.

Has the Phoenix Lander found Ice on Mars?

These images are of the delightfully named Dodo-Goldilocks trench dug by the Phoenix Lander. They were taken four martian days apart.

Look at the picture on the left. Note the little dice-sized nodules at the bottom left. Four days later they are gone, having apparently vaporised. Rather cool and perhaps evidence that, as long suspected, the Red Planet is home to water ice.

A Statistical Anomaly

I tend to run at somewhere between 50 and 100 views per day. Over the last week or so we’ve had a great big spike here at Fleet of Worlds (pictured above). Now we seem to be dropping back towards the normal rate. Maybe something to do with how Google shows the blog in it’s results. Who knows? Let me know if you do!

More Birthday Stuff

Today was Miss Fleet’s actual fourth birthday. Great excitement this morning during the opening of the presents. Mrs Fleet and I had bought her her first ‘proper’ bicycle. She also received numerous Barbie related things, a lovely Silver Cross pram for her dolls, and a superb inflatable mini-bouncy castle thingy for the garden, amongst other presents.

No sooner had Miss Fleet been presented with her new bike (which is very pink) than it was off round the block for a quick ride.

This rapidly resulted in an over-the-handlebars scenario - fortunately only minor injuries were sustained by the pilot, but a return to the pits was required to conduct running repairs. Here we see the head mechanic (me) returning the handlebars and front wheel to their original configuration! You can also see the deteriorating topiary situation on the top of my head…

Once the repairs were completed a further circumnavigation was undertaken, this time without incident!

Once the various relatives had arrived Miss Fleet had a superb time bouncing wildly in her mini-bouncy-castle - a humorous side effect of which was the build up of static causing her hair to stand on end!

It was a very busy day so it was nice after the children had gone to bed to roam around the garden with a cigar, grazing on the various luscious fruits which are growing very well this year.

Miss Fleet’s 4th Birthday

It’s Miss Fleet’s 4th birthday tomorrow - so today we took her to a local activity farm along with some of her friends. A good time was had by all. We fed the lambs, goats and calves, and pigs, went for a ride on a tractor and the children (oh, alright, children and dads) climbed over a huge pile of bales of straw which had tunnels through it.

Pictured is Miss Fleet harassing a lamb and approaching some pigs with great caution.

A Gift for Globus

Miss Avril Lavigne

The Great Bear

Reading the latest post over on the blog of the lovely Mermaid made me think of one of my favourite pieces of art, Simon Patterson’s The Great Bear. I have a print of it on my staircase at home and it’s great to stop and look at it - even after many years I still occasionally see a name I’m convinced I haven’t seen before.

Helicopter Girl

Helicopter Girl is a project of the enigmatic and beautiful Scottish-Ghanaian singer Jackie Joyce. She’s one of the most under-rated (and under-heard) artists working in Britain today, and she released a superb new album called Metropolitan in the last couple of weeks. Her voice has more than a little of Eartha Kitt to it. The video above is Ballerina, a track from the album.

What have I done to deserve this?

Accompanied by some bloke called Magnus Carlson, Sweden’s glorious West End Girls take on What Have I Done To Deserve This? Could this be any more camp if it tried?

Back Home

We’re back form our annual early summer sojourn in St Agnes on the North Coast of Cornwall. The house is in chaos and we have finally got Rothmans and Miss Fleet to bed, the latter very tearful about (a) coming home and (b) being parted from (i) her Nana and Grandad with whom we have spend the week in Cornwall and (ii) her Grandma and Grampy with whom she was parceled off this afternoon while we tried to unpack.

It’s always a great week - slightly nostalgic for me as I used to spend my summer holidays in Cornwall as a kid with my parents and my three brothers. It’s nice to have some quality time with my Mum and Dad and obviously they are great for sharing the childcare load! Mrs Fleet gets to see her Penryn domiciled Gran (a mixed blessing for her but nice for Miss Fleet) and I just love swimming in the sea, shopping and over-eating / drinking.

Falmouth

Here in Falmouth, enjoying a lovely lunch washed down with a glass of Magners cider in a bar equipped with WiFi.

Falmouth is somewhere we come to every year as Mrs Fleet’s Gran retired here. Over the 10 years or so we have been coming here it has gradually gentrified - the new marina development has lead to lots of very nice yachts and lots of blokes in white shorts, polo shirts and chunky Rolex watches - the ones who haven’t lost theirs over the side of course- you know who you are

Great shopping too.