How the Southern Cross replica flew again after 2 decades

While today a flight between Brisbane and California will take around 14 hours, for the original Southern Cross, it was a nine-day odyssey cramped inside the tiny plane with no toilet as it flew from Oakland to Honolulu to Suva and finally to Brisbane.  All in all, the historic flight took 83 and a half hours, and when it at last reached Brisbane, The Sunday Times recorded the reaction of the crowd that had come out to welcome it home:

“A lusty cheer rose from the great assemblage as the machine came overhead, hats were flung in the air, and scarves and newspapers were sent skywards as the monoplane, her escorts scattering to make way, lost ground rapidly. Her single wings, with the great body of blue and the number ‘1985’, stood out boldly as the machine encircled the aerodrome and made for the lower end of the field.

“Despite the presence of barriers, there was some crushing at this point, and the public’s desire to get an early glimpse of the world flyers was not to be appeased by a few dozen police, for as with one accord, the spectators gathered around with calls for ‘Smithy’ and the other members.”

The first Southern Cross went on to fly the first non-stop trans-Tasman flight, though Smithy’s ambition to fly to London was aborted when the plane crashed in WA in April 1929 as he attempted the journey. Eventually, Kingsford Smith sold the plane to the Commonwealth government shortly before he died in 1935. After its refurbishment in the 1980s, it was given a permanent home in a glass hangar on Airport Drive, not far from Brisbane’s international terminal.

Here comes the New Bus, (almost) same as the Old Bus

It was businessman, flying instructor and pilot John Pope who, in the late 1970s, had the idea to build a full-scale flying replica of the Southern Cross, winning the government’s backing. “He had this idea in the 70s that we should celebrate the life of Kingsford Smith and the aviators of that era,” says Jim Thurstan, who led the restoration project for HARS. “He convinced the government to give him some money, a couple hundred thousand dollars, and they started a build in 1980, down in South Australia. It first flew in 1987, and it flew successfully for 560 hours. It travelled all around Australia raising money for the Flying Doctors, and it flew during the Bicentennial quite a lot. It flew to New Zealand once.”

With a wingspan of more than 21 metres, the plane sometimes dubbed the ‘New Bus’ – a play on Smithy and his crew’s nickname for the original, the ‘Old Bus’ – was the largest flying replica aircraft in the world and would carry passengers on scenic flights from Adelaide’s Parafield Airport. The New Bus, while keeping the plywood wings, was designed to update safety standards and technology, including three 300hp Jacobs Engines in place of the original 200hp Wright Whirlwinds, plus oleos instead of rubber shock absorbers.

Unfortunately, one of these flights from Parafield in May 2002 led to the downfall of the New Bus when, on take-off, one of its main wheels came off the undercarriage. When it came time to land, the pilot had to put the plane down on one wheel and the tail skid, so he held the wings up high to keep the damaged undercarriage off the ground.

As the Southern Cross slowed, the right and middle engines hit the ground, and three metres of wing tip snapped off.

While nobody was hurt, the crash was brutal on the plane, with significant damage to the engines and fuselage in addition to the broken wing. “It sat down in South Australia for quite some years because they were undecided about whether they’d rebuild it and who would do it. They couldn’t make up their mind,” says Thurstan. “They looked for people that were interested, and we said we were, so we’ve had it since.”

Putting it back together

HARS acquired the replica in 2010, and with a group of dedicated volunteers – usually working a few days per week – set about assessing the damage to figure out how to get the plane air-worthy again.

“We first did a structural test on the wing, which had broken three metres off the right-hand wingtip,” says Thurstan. “We didn’t know whether there was further damage inside the wing, so we put 1.2 tonnes of bricks on each. The damage was limited towards the wingtip, so we stripped the wing back six metres and rebuilt six metres of the right-hand wing.”

To restore the wings, HARS brought imported European spruce intended for yacht masts and rebuilt them over five years.

“It was a long process. Probably the biggest part of that was setting it up. So we rebuilt six metres of the 21-metre wing and then joined the two together. And we needed to do that and ensure they’re both the same angle of incidence – you don’t want one to dip on the other because it won’t fly straight,” said Thurstan.

The group in Shellharbour worked on the wings, while the engines were sent to a contractor in Brisbane who volunteered three years of his time, working on his own, to restore them. “Its structural steel fuselage, fabric-covered, had been a bit damaged in the accident,” says Thurstan. “But we actually improved quite a bit of the engineering throughout the aircraft. Now it’s brand spanking new.”

What made HARS decide to get on board with the restoration, we asked? “Probably stupidity,” Thurstan laughs. “We’re into that sort of business. With a unique opportunity like a replica Southern Cross, it doesn’t get much better. Plus, it adds to our collection of Super Constellations and takes it right back to the early days of aviation. Combined with our 747, it’s a lovely spread. It’s unique. There are no others in the world. There are some similar-looking ones in America, tri-motors that are very similar, but they’re made out of metal. There’s another replica out at Balranald, but it’s a non-flying one. It was just a great opportunity.”

Wheels up at last

Almost 20 years after the crash at Parafield, the Southern Cross in January 2022 marked its first powered taxi run since the accident – paving the way for test flights before it finally flew again in public for the first time on 8 December last year. In front of a crowd of enthusiasts at Shellharbour Airport, the plane took off, flying several passes over the airport on a 15-minute run before landing again to the cheers and applause of HARS volunteers and members of the public. Afterwards, pilot Bruce Simpson told us the plane had flown “pretty well as advertised”.

“It was flying and operating exactly how it was designed to,” he said. “An extraordinary amount of credit needs to go to the engineers on the project because it does exactly what it’s designed to do. A very successful flight. It reminds you of how heroic Smithy and all those guys of the era were. In terms of flying this aeroplane or similar styles of aeroplanes across the world, it’s a difficult and demanding job.”

Mark Thurstan, the co-pilot – and Jim’s son – also praised the work of the engineers for a flawless flight. “There are no defects, none whatsoever, which is, again, credit to the engineering team, even though the bloke in charge of it is a bit of a grumpy old guy, which is my father,” he jokes. “To come back and see them all, it’s like this elation on their face, you know that it all worked and worked very well. So, the next stage is to ensure they all have a good flight and enjoy the aircraft for what it is.”

And how did it handle? Simpson, a retired Qantas pilot who helps train in simulators, says the Southern Cross is more challenging to fly than modern planes. “This week, I’ve been flying A380s and light twins and DC-3s, and it’s a quantum more difficult to fly than those because it’s got a lot less natural stability. You’re continually using your hands and feet to keep the aircraft stable and you have a very limited speed range. We’re still learning a bit. It has some fairly stringent crosswind limitations for us to start with while we learn the beast. We don’t take it lightly.”

One issue the duo faced was the ease of communication – or lack thereof. While they had modern intercom systems, these could not cope with what Simpson called an “awesome amount of noise”, leading them to rely on passing notes and hand signals just as Smithy and his crew had done in the old days.

Despite the quirks of the replica, however, both pilots agree that the simple fact it has flown again after so long is nothing short of a miracle. “Just watching everyone pulling together, I think it’s been over a decade that people have been working on this machine, piece by piece,” says Mark. “And now it’s flying, which is a phenomenal achievement.”

Simpson agrees. “It is a fantastic tribute to the organisation, staff, project management, and sponsors,” he says. “Without any of those components, this would never have happened. It’s an absolute legacy for the aviation industry of Australia.”

Technical specifications (courtesy of HARS)   

Engines:

3 x Jacobs R-755 A2, 7 cylinder air-cooled radial, 12.4 L, ~300 bhp each

Maximum take-off weight:

5,700 kg

Length:

14.3 m

Wingspan:

22.1 m

Height:

4.3 m

Cruising speed:

~155 km/h (max ~185 km/h)

Ceiling:

8,500 ft

Range:

7.5 hr endurance

Crew:

2 x pilots

Smithy on film

Released in 1946, Smithy – directed by Ken G. Hall and starring Ron Randell as Sir Charles Kingsford Smith – was conceived by Columbia Pictures’ Australian managing director NP Pery as a marketable film about an internationally recognised Australian.

After considering Don Bradman, Ned Kelly, and Dame Nellie Melba as subject matter, the producers decided on Kingsford Smith, in part because of his connection to the United States. The film follows Smithy’s career from his time on the Western Front in 1917 to his trans-Pacific flight in 1928, his crash in the WA desert, and his eventual disappearance over the Indian Ocean in 1935.

The actual Southern Cross plane appears in the film, supplied by the government in one of the aircraft’s last major roles before its retirement, while two of Smithy’s co-pilots, along with former Prime Minister Billy Hughes, played themselves.

The film ran to 119 minutes for its Australian release but was cut down to 99 minutes and renamed Pacific Adventure in the US, with its American marketing focusing on the romance, exotic locales and Kingsford Smith’s bravery. While it was Australia’s third most popular film in 1946, American audiences didn’t take to it. Hall blamed the edits, while Randell thought Americans simply weren’t familiar enough with the film’s namesake.

Timeline

1926 – Originally named Detroiter, the plane that will become Southern Cross crashes on an Arctic expedition and is subsequently salvaged and sold to Charles Kingsford Smith.

1928 – Alongside Charles Ulm, Harry Lyon and James Warner, Smithy flies Southern Cross from Oakland, California to Brisbane. The plane later that year makes the first non-stop flights across the Tasman.

1929 – Kingsford Smith crashes the Southern Cross in the desert near the Glenelg River. He and his crew are rescued, though two searchers lose their lives in the attempt.

1935 – Shortly before his disappearance, Smithy sells the plane to the Australian government for display in a museum.

1945–46 – Southern Cross is used in the filming of Smithy.

1980s – A flying replica is built ahead of the Bicentennial celebrations and travels the country.

1985 – The original is refurbished and will eventually be displayed at Brisbane Airport.

2002 – The replica crashes at Parafield Airport, damaging the wings, engines and undercarriage.

2010 – HARS acquires the replica from the SA government.

2022 – The replica taxis again for the first time since the accident.

2023 – Restored by HARS, the replica takes off for its first public demonstration flight, with Bruce Simpson and Mark Thurstan at the helm.