forever off-shore, where the warm gulf stream meets the colder waters of the north.
Thus we had to take advantage of the moment and be ready to hop off when conditions were right, as they changed rapidly. Ultimately we were obliged to alter our plans for carrying 900 gallons of gasoline, barely contriving to get off with 700. This lessened supply decreased our margin of safety and shortened our cruising range. At best, we hoped only to reach Ireland, and for days we seriously considered the possibility of trying to make the Azores, when our representatives in New York notified us that gas was obtainable there.
One of the questions which has been asked me most frequently is what we ate on the actual flight. We had with us scrambled egg sandwiches, made fresh in Trepassey, coffee for the men (I don’t drink coffee unless I have to and a special promised container of cocoa for me somehow didn’t materialize), a few oranges, a bottle of malted milk tablets, some sweet chocolate and five gallons of water. Then, in case we were marooned, we had an emergency ration called pemmican, a very concentrated food used by explorers. A spoonful or so a day is supposed to keep one healthy and happy. After testing this concoction, which is reminiscent of cold lard with dark unidentified lumps floating in it, I question the degree of happiness obtainable, what ever the health content.
Actually on the trip there was so much to do and think about that none of us seemed to be hungry.
