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Double Eagle II - A Retrospective If At First You Don't Succeed... Double Eagle I and Double Eagle II by Peter Stekel
August marks the 20th anniversary of Double Eagle II, the first successful trans-Atlantic balloon flight. One of the world's most dangerous aviation challenges, 14 previous attempts had failed with the loss of five lives: Malcolm Brighton with Rodney and Pamela Anderson in Free Life, 1970. Tom Gatch in Light Heart, 1974. And Bob Berger, the same year, in Spirit of Man. The following account is based on events chronicled in the book, Double Eagle, by Charles McCarry and a National Geographic article written by Ben Abruzzo. Maxie Anderson and Ben Abruzzo had tried in September, 1977 to be the first to cross the Atlantic but were unsuccessful when their 101,000 cubic foot helium balloon, designed by Ed Yost, had to be ditched after 65 hours and 30 minutes north of Reykjavik in Iceland. A delayed lift-off, storms, and winds which blew the team off course were the reasons for failure. With Ben Abruzzo suffering from exposure and frostbite, Double Eagle had to be ditched three miles off the coast of Iceland on September 12, 1977. Anderson and Abruzzo returned in 1978, older, wiser, and more experienced and with the addition of Larry Newman to the team. Leaving from Presque Isle, Maine, on August 11, 1978, they arrived in a farmer's barley field in France, 137 hours, 5 minutes, and 30 seconds later. Anderson and Abruzzo, successful Albuquerque, New Mexico, businessmen, were in their early forties. Newman, a manufacturer of hang gliders, wasn't even thirty. Contained in all three was several lifetimes of aviation experience in hot air balloons, airplanes, and hang gliders. Abruzzo and Anderson decided to name their flight, Double Eagle, in honor of
Charles Lindbergh, the first to successfully fly solo across the Atlantic in a fixed wing aircraft in 1927. Anderson and Abruzzo decided to fly the Atlantic in March of 1977. Double Eagle I lifted off from Marshfiled, Massachusetts, on September 9, 1977 and set down in the sea off Iceland 65 hours and 30 minutes later. In many ways it was a successful flight in as much as the two men were able to confront and solve the logistical problems of a large exploratory adventure in only six months. Still, there were problems. They got a late start. Ed Yost, designer and builder of Double Eagle and the only one who knew how to use the equipment to pump helium into the envelope was left stranded at the airport in Logan. No one had thought to pick him up. Crucial tools had been forgotten and Yost was forced to improvise. A storm was brewing in Northern Canada. The Double Eagle meteorologists coupled a two hour delay in departure with the Canadian storm and had reservations. Abruzzo and Anderson made the decision to go and their balloon began to leave the ground at 8:16 PM. They started well but one crisis soon began to be followed by another. Air currents drove the balloon towards Mt. Katahdin, the highest point in Maine, but they managed to squeak by. Clouds soon blocked the night sky; rain, then snow eventually followed as they moved into the Canadian storm. The balloon fell, then rose, and fell again over the last piece of terrain offered by North America. Over the Atlantic their wet long-range radio died and they turned on their homing beacon. Things rapidly got worse and worse. If they stayed low, Anderson and Abruzzo were soaked by rain. If they went high, the balloon would ice up and they would suffer mightily with snow, cold, and thin air. By this point, nearly 50 hours into the flight, neither man had slept much and both were soaked to the skin. They had also begun to drift north and west, towards Greenland: the wrong way. They were able to hail a passing military plane. Anderson called for a helicopter. It was time to bail out on the mission. Double Eagle descended towards an ocean with 25 foot seas. Abruzzo and Anderson released the envelope; the gondola plopped into the Atlantic. The rescue helicopter pulled Anderson, then Abruzzo, out of the gondola in their orange survival suits. The flight was over. Back in New Mexico, Anderson immediately began to prepare for a second try at crossing the Atlantic in a balloon. Abruzzo spent several months recuperating from frostbite. Both men relived the flight, trying to figure out what went wrong; what they had done wrong. By spring, 1978, they decided to give it another try. Due to financial considerations and the need to reduce wear and tear on themselves, the two agreed a third pilot would be added. That man was Larry Newman. Despite a nearly three hour delay in departing August 11, 1978 from Presque Isle, Maine, the flight of Double Eagle II was everything Double Eagle I was not. Only two events marred what could have been a perfect flight: Larry Newman's hang glider brushing against a powerline and the "Big Down." The 160,000 cubic foot balloon easily sailed past the first problem. Once over open water the crew had to contend with radios that either didn't function or worked poorly. The task of getting them up to speed fell to Larry Newman. Eventually he was able to contact a ham in England who relayed all their messages. A storm developed on their fourth night out. Unlike the previous attempt, it turned away to the north and they had to contend only with clouds. During the evenings, ice would form on the envelope and the increased weight would cause Double Eagle II to descend. With the sunrise, and increased solar radiation, the helium would expand and carry the balloon aloft. On August 16, Double Eagle II went through a harrowing experience. Atmospheric conditions forced the balloon to drop 19,500 feet to a low point of 4000 feet. They called this the "Big Drop," and compensated for the loss of lift by careful ballasting. Then, superheating from the sun that afternoon caused the balloon to rise to its highest point, 24,900 feet. As they approached the coast of Ireland, they began to discard equipment. This was done, not only to function as ballast, but also because it would be impossible to do so once Double Eagle II was over dry land. It simply wouldn't be safe to toss over oxygen and propane bottles, batteries, and other hard gear onto unsuspecting people. The crew ditched Newman's hang glider, watching it fly itself down to the waiting ocean. Once over France, they descended gradually as they looked for a good landing spot. Nobody had ever landed a transcontinental balloon on dry land before. Near the town of Evreux they spotted a barley field and easily touched down. Double Eagle II, with Ben Abruzzo, Maxie Anderson, and Larry Newman had done something no one had ever done before: crossed the Atlantic Ocean in a balloon. We offer these four reminiscences, from crew member Larry Newman; balloon designer and builder, Ed Yost; Richard Abruzzo, pilot and son of Ben Abruzzo; and Patty Anderson, wife of Maxie Anderson. Sadly, both Maxie Anderson and Ben Abruzzo were later killed in separate flying accidents. Double Eagle II - A Retrospective Richard Abruzzo by Peter Stekel
When Double Eagle II lifted off from Presque Isle, Maine, on August 11, 1978, Richard Abruzzo, the 14 year old son of Ben, watched his father, Maxie Anderson, and Larry Newman disappear into the night sky. He remembered the flight of Double Eagle I which left his father with a severely frostbitten foot. "I didn't know if I was going to see my dad again, especially on that first flight, and that is a very uncomfortable feeling." To a young boy, a father can also be a hero and that was certainly the case for young Richard. "I always felt he would overcome any adversity that was thrown at him." Richard Abruzzo believed his father knew what he was doing and, "would figure out a way to succeed and if not succeed, at least survive. You just had to have that faith," he says. Abruzzo remembers that, "On the first flight (Double Eagle I) there were a lot of concerned people, even just prior to launch. Some of my father's friends tried to talk him out of the flight, and indicated he didn't need to take that kind of risk; it wasn't necessary, and why do it? But he was determined and wasn't going to take no for an answer." Richard says that risk wasn't anything new to Ben Abruzzo. "My father was a very driven man," he recalls. "Already in his life he had accomplished some major things. The Sandia Peak Tramway in Albuquerque was a huge undertaking." Ben Abruzzo went out on a limb, financially. "It wasn't a personal risk," Richard Abruzzo concedes, but a financial risk to the greatest degree. "My father pursued a project many thought was impossible and pulled it off." He sees a lot of similarity between his father's business dealings and flying a helium balloon across the Atlantic Ocean. "The risk associated with the balloon flight is not the same sort of risk though," since it is, "a more severe kind of risk because it is your life." Richard Abruzzo doesn't think that his father, Max Anderson, and Larry Newman were crazy for what they wanted to do. "They were knowledgeable of the risk and they really believed they could do it and that if everything went wrong, they could still survive it." He pauses before continuing to say, "I remember reading that Ed Yost had told them it was a survivable venture." That obviously meant a lot. "Ed Yost's contributions," to both flights, "were key to their success." "They pushed any thoughts of loss of life into the background or the corner of their mind and ignored it," Richard says. "Maybe they didn't think of it at all!" A pilot and an accomplished balloonist who successfully flew a balloon across the Atlantic Ocean in 1992 with Troy Bradley, he says, "I can identify with that. When you're focused and driven to do something, you just do it." There were some humorous events in the Abruzzo household as Ben prepared for Double Eagle II. "I remember our dad floating around in the swimming pool in his survival suit, the big orange gumby suit, making sure the thing floated." Richard realizes now how significant that event was at the time and that the suit symbolized, "Floating around in the North Atlantic, which is a little bit more inhospitable than a swimming pool at 87 degrees!" Today, it seems quite natural to Richard that his father and Max Anderson would attempt their Atlantic crossing. "My father and Maxie were partners on one of the first hot air balloons in New Mexico in the early 70s. We (the families) were always the crew, chasing them around the countryside. I remember many days of that sort of thing." Maybe that's why the families were so accepting of the husbands, and fathers, risking their necks. "We were always very involved in assisting in these activities," and preparing for Double Eagle I and II was no different. Being supportive and involved did get tested a time or two, especially when there were problems in the air. "I don't think anyone on the sidelines had to fret with that as much as they did." Richard reflects that, "I'm sure my mother did," and, "maybe more so than themselves. The wives take the brunt of that." The true test came during Double Eagle I. "Double Eagle I obviously took a big turn for the worse. I recall prior to the flight, there were pretty grave concerns among many people, friends and family, including myself whether we would see these guys again." After that first flight, when things went so poorly and they survived and came back intact, "Going into the second flight there was a high level of confidence that they had been through the worst and come out the other side." Richard remembers, "I didn't have those feelings of dread as to whether my dad was going to come back or not on the second flight." Yet, there were problems on Double Eagle II that caused concern. Initially, their radio failed and Larry Newman had to work hard to patch together something that would work. Richard Abruzzo says, "They lost communication on the first flight too. When that happened (on the second flight) it was a feeling of `here we go again.'" What made it easier to deal with was, "The weather situation was much better on the second flight." In fact, "It was kind of slow. There were issues, the Big Down for instance, but at least they weren't wrapped up in a major storm like the first flight." Storms. Depending on your placement, they can kill you or help you. If you stay in front of them, the winds will blow you on your way. If they swallow you, then you're in a world of hurt. "Double Eagle I, from the very beginning, they may have well been doomed to be absorbed in that storm in the fashion they were." Top-notch meteorology helps, of course, but how much? Abruzzo can afford to laugh about this subject because of his own experience in long distance ballooning. "Yes; it can make a difference because you can make decisions in the course of the flight that allow you to pick a different course." However, you're at the whim of the wind. "By making key decisions during the course of the flight, such as about altitude, you can alter your course downwind." You may to be able to avoid weather that way and, "Sometimes no," because, "you're at the mercy of mother nature and no matter what you do you're going to end up in the middle of something you don't want to be in the middle of." Abruzzo doesn't think Double Eagle II was an innovative flight, "Though at the time they were innovative in many ways," just in solving the logistical problems." But at the same time, "They were using similar equipment to what is still in use today." Abruzzo believes the decision to stay as high as possible was a good one, even when taking into account the physics of helium ballooning. "At that time, there were other projects thinking the opposite; to stay right on the surface." When Double Eagle II reached near 25,000 feet towards the end of the flight they were, "Pretty darn high with a non-pressurized situation." Of course, pressurized gondolas are the standard today. "Not until after that flight did they go the next big step and enclose gondola." For instance, the Double Eagle V flight across the Pacific Ocean that Ben Abruzzo and Larry Newman made with Ron Clark and Rocky Aoki, was with an enclosed gondola. "To some extent, at that time, the Double Eagle II equipment was quite crude. They had an open gondola with a rain tarp to stretch over which we all know doesn't work well. And they had a straight gas balloon which only has a certain amount of duration potential." Fortunately, Anderson, Abruzzo, and Newman were able to maximize that potential for 137 hours, 5 minutes, and 30 seconds. "It's hard to get a straight gas balloon to stay up much longer," Richard says, "with just ballast as your only control element. "What was aboard when they landed is testament to that." Double Eagle II was stripped of all its sand ballast, water, and just about every other piece of equipment as well. In that regard, Richard Abruzzo says, "I see that flight as being innovative but also quite crude in comparison to what is being used today." As for his own Atlantic crossing, "It was special." What was so special about that flight was, "I got to experience something that my father had." He had heard stories over the dinner table about many things; for instance, about sunsets so surreal that his dad wished, "We could all witness the beauty first hand." Some things were so fantastic that, "Dad wished everybody could be in the gondola with him, of course if it could support that kind of weight!" These were the things that couldn't, "be recorded with a camera." Richard Abruzzo says, "For me to have lived those stories was very emotional; a very special experience." And what made his own flight even more special was, "We were able to break the Double Eagle II duration record. For me to have the opportunity to break my own father's record was just incredible." The way Richard Abruzzo sees it, if somebody was going to break the duration record, "Dad would appreciate that it was kept in the family."
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