Glorious Failure. The four men in the Southern Cross strained eyes and ears. Surely they should have sighted Cape Race by this time. Surely an intelligible radio bearing should come to guide them Major Charles Kingsford-Smith scowled at the grey fog outside his cockpit, cursed the compasses that pointed crazily to East and West. Beside him stolid Dutch Evert Van Dyk held the controls, stared straight ahead. In the cabin behind him Radioman John Stannage frantically worked key and dials. Navigator J. Patrick Saul searched in vain for a patch of sky...
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