At 10:00 a.m., July 2, the Electra took off from the Lae airfield. They had only three more scheduled stops to complete the flight around the world: Howland Island, Honolulu, and Oakland. Nearing the end of the runway, the wheels rose a few inches off the turf. The takeoff time was logged at 0000 Greenwich Civil Time (GCT).
The plane was off the ground, but the speed was too slow for an optimum climb. As the Electra passed the edge of the bluff, Earhart allowed the plane to drop gradually until it was only six feet from the surface of the ocean. The landing gear was retracting, and once the wheels were secured in the nacelles, some amount of the drag was reduced. Earhart worked the controls, and the airspeed gradually increased. The plane climbed slowly. When it was at least two hundred feet in the air, Earhart oriented the craft to a 073 heading on a direct line for Howland Island. Gradually the plane rose to a cruising altitude of four thousand feet. According to Noonan’s calculations, they would arrive at their destination at daybreak the following morning. Noonan would be employing celestial navigation, that is, taking sightings on the stars until such time as they arrived at Howland Island.
After the Electra was out of sight, Balfour received a new forecast, one that included an update on the headwinds. Instead of the less than fifteen miles per hour that had been communicated earlier, the new forecast called for winds of 26.5 miles per hour. This would alter the Electra’s flight time from eighteen hours to nineteen.
When the Electra was finally in the air and well on its way across the wide expanse of Pacific Ocean, the radioman at the Lae airfield radioed the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca that everything was on schedule. The Itasca was holding a position just off Howland Island. Its responsibility was to provide communications, radio direction finding, and weather reports to Earhart. The crew of the vessel would also assist Earhart and Noonan with the refueling and maintenance. Further, the captain of the Itasca would keep all other stations apprised of Earhart’s progress. Another ship, the U.S. Navy tug Ontario, was holding a position halfway between Lae and Howland Island. The responsibility of the Ontario was to make weather observations and provide reports as well as transmit radio homing signals for Earhart.
The Electra faced headwinds somewhat stronger than originally anticipated. Given the headwinds and the 157 miles per hour optimum true airspeed, Noonan calculated a ground speed of 142 miles per hour. Everything was still on schedule.
Before leaving Lae, Earhart made arrangements to transmit at eighteen minutes past each hour and to listen for messages from Lae at twenty minutes past each hour. Harry Balfour, the radio operator at Lae, provided reports of the stronger-than-expected and gradually increasing headwinds at 10:20, 11:20, and 12:20 local time, but Earhart never acknowledged him. The only response heard from Earhart was received at 0418 GCT (2:18 local time). Earhart, using the daytime frequency of 6,210 kilocycles, reported, “Height 7,000 feet, speed 140 knots.” Because of what was determined to be local interference, much of the rest of her message could not be understood, though a reference to Lae was heard as well as the comment, “Everything OK.” Earhart also transmitted that she had increased her air speed to 161 miles per hour in order to compensate for the stronger headwinds. Her next transmission was at 0519 GCT: “Height 10,000 feet. Position 150.7 east, 7.3 south. Cumulus clouds. Everything OK.”
According to experienced pilots, maximum altitude for optimum fuel efficiency in the equatorial regions is two thousand feet below the recommended pressure altitude. It is presumed that, because of the presence of cumulus clouds (potential storm clouds), Earhart lifted the Electra to ten thousand feet in order to pass over the strong updrafts and eddies associated with the storm. The weight of the plane at this altitude would thus force Earhart to burn a significant amount of fuel to climb to and cruise at that altitude. The inefficiency related to fuel consumption could have a potential impact during the latter stages of the flight.
The position reported by Earhart placed her less than 220 statute miles from Lae and just over 450 miles from where they should have been assuming the original schedule had been maintained.
Earhart’s 0618 GCT report did not arrive at Lae. The next transmission was at 0718 on 6,210 kilocycles: “Position 4.33 south, 159.7 east, height 8,000 feet over cumulus clouds. Wind 23 knots.” This position was 850 miles from Lae, and they remained on a straight course for Howland Island. According to a variety of analyses of Earhart’s transmissions in the years since her flight, it has been determined that her reported position at 0718 GCT was not where they were. In fact, given the schedule the Electra was maintaining, it was a position they would have been in one hour earlier. Earhart’s transmission signals on 6,210 kilocycles had been strong both before and after her 0618 report. A handful of analysts have suggested that there was a delay between the time she sent the transmission and the time it was received by Balfour at Lae. Others have suggested that Noonan’s position calculations were in error. Both explanations stretch the bounds of credulity. The truth is, a satisfactory explanation for the discrepancies in reporting and receiving time remains elusive to this day.
Given the headwinds along with the increased speed necessary to deal with them, the Electra would have just barely enough gasoline to get them to Howland Island. Having passed the worst of the cumulus cloud buildup, Earhart dropped to an altitude of eight thousand feet. This was still too high for optimum fuel efficiency.
Nothing was heard from either Balfour or the Itasca by Earhart during her scheduled 0815 GCT transmission on 3,105 kilocycles. It can be presumed that at 0910 GCT, Earhart listened for the N’s that were to be broadcast on 400 kilocycles. The log of the Ontario never showed that the N’s had been sent at that time or ever. At 1500 GCT, the tug, running low on fuel, set a course for American Samoa.
By 1000 GCT, the Electra was more than halfway to Howland Island. They were now past the point of no return. To turn around and head back to Lae would now be just as risky as continuing on to Howland Island, if not more so. They were now flying in the dark.
At around 1030 GCT, Earhart spotted some lights on the water. She reported “a ship in sight ahead.” The ship was the SS Myrtlebank out of Auckland, New Zealand, and commanded by Captain Cort J. Holbrook. The position of the Myrtlebank at the time was eighty miles south of Nauru Island, for which it was bound. The officer in charge of the radio station at Nauru Island, Harold J. Barnes, logged in Earhart’s message and responded over the island’s 3,105 kilocycle radio. The Itasca heard the transmission, but if Earhart did, she did not respond.
By the time the Electra reached the Myrtlebank, it had traveled 1,414 statute miles in a period of ten and one-half hours. Howland Island still lay 1,142 statute miles away with an estimated flying time of eight and one-half hours. The revised estimated arrival time would be 1900 GCT.
At 1415 GCT, Earhart was nearing the Gilbert Islands. She transmitted her message at fifteen minutes past the hour on 3,105 kilocycles. The earlier strong headwinds had taken a toll on the fuel supply, but with four hours to go before reaching Howland Island, the amount of remaining fuel should have been sufficient.
At 1515 GCT, Earhart transmitted: “Itasca from Earhart. Overcast. Will listen on hour and half-hour on 3,105.” At 1623 GCT, she transmitted her report, stating that it was “partly cloudy.” They were 354 miles from Howland Island.
Before long, Earhart and Noonan would be greeted by the morning sun. During these early days of navigation, it was common for a navigator to plot a sun line—a single line of position from the sun plotted on a chart at right angles to it. The sun line would, with a fair degree of accuracy, update their position along an east-west course, but it was not particularly helpful relative to providing information pertinent to their maintaining the intended course directly to the island or veering off to the north or south. Because Howland Island was so small, any slight deviation from the intended course could cause the Electra to fly past it without Earhart or Noonan seeing it.
The way to compensate for a problem such
as this was for the navigator to make a decision about the maximum distance it was reasonable for the plane to be accidentally off course to the north or south. The navigational term for this is the “area of uncertainty.” The navigator would make a choice to veer either north or south from the presumed direct course. When the sun line of position indicated that they had progressed eastward as far as Howland Island, the pilot would then turn in the appropriate direction (north or south, depending on which direction the navigator chose to veer from the main course), and then, theoretically, fly directly to the intended destination, in this case, Howland Island. Flying the extra off-course for miles would delay their arrival time to around 1912 GCT.
By 1715 GCT, the Electra was running on the last of the fuel supply—a wing tank that carried ninety-seven gallons. Both engines could run off of this tank. With a fuel consumption rate of twenty gallons per hour, they would be able to remain airborne for another two- to two-and-a-half hours.
At 1744 GCT, Earhart transmitted, “Want bearing on 3,105 kilocycles on hour. Will whistle in mic.” After pausing a moment, she continued, “About two hundred miles out, approximately.” A few seconds of whistling followed, and she closed with the single word, “Northwest.” The sun was now coming up.
At 1815 GCT, Earhart broadcast, “Please take bearing on us and report in half-hour. I will make noise in microphone. About one hundred miles out.” Noonan plotted the sun line that ran 157–337 degrees across their course. At approximately 1833 GCT, the Electra was around sixty-five miles from its destination. Earhart began her descent, for it was imperative they get below the cloud line in order to be able to spot the island. At around one thousand feet, they were below the cloud base.
Presuming they were following Noonan’s plan, Earhart would have turned north or south toward Howland Island around 1902 GCT, following the 157–337 sun line. The island should only be about fifteen to twenty miles away. It can also be presumed that because of the low angle of the sun, the pilot and navigator had to deal with a significant amount of glare coming off the ocean surface.
At 1912, Earhart sent her scheduled transmission on 3,105 kilocycles: “KHAQQ calling Itasca. We must be on you but cannot see you. But gas running low. Been unable to reach you by radio. We are flying at altitude of one thousand feet.” By prearrangement, when the Electra got close to the island, the Itasca would release an abundant column of smoke. Since they were positioned just off Howland, the island would therefore be easier to spot. It has been estimated that such smoke could be seen from forty miles away and more.
The truth is, Earhart was nowhere near the Itasca. Based on an analysis of the radio logs by Paul Rafford as well as a study of the radio transmitting characteristics of Earhart’s Electra, it was determined that she was 150 miles north-northwest of Howland Island when she made the above transmission.
By 1928 GCT, the Electra would have been flying along the 157–337 sun line for about forty miles. Earhart and Noonan could see neither the island nor the smoke from the Itasca. By this time, assuming the sun line course, they would have flown past the island.
Two minutes before the Itasca’s scheduled broadcast time (1928 GCT), Earhart transmitted on 3,105 kilocycles: “KHAQQ calling Itasca. We are circling but cannot hear you. Go ahead on 7,500 either now or on the scheduled time on half-hour.” After receiving some Morse code signals, Earhart transmitted again at 1930 GCT: “KHAQQ calling Itasca. We received your signals but unable to get a minimum. Please take bearing on us and answer 3,105 with voice.” Following this, she sent a series of long dashes in the hope that the ship could get a bearing on her. By this time, the Electra had only one-quarter tank of fuel remaining. This would give them thirty-five to forty minutes of flying time left.
At 2013 GCT, Earhart, speaking rapidly, transmitted on 3105: “We are on the line of position 157–337. Will repeat this message. We will repeat this message on 6,210 kilocycles. We are running north and south.”
This was the last broadcast any of the designated stations ever picked up from Earhart. She was gone, and the immediate determination by United States Navy and Coast Guard, backed by U.S. government officials, was that the Electra crashed into the ocean somewhere near Howland Island, thus generating one of the greatest mysteries in history.
Over the next few days, newspapers across the world sported headlines relating to Earhart’s and Noonan’s disappearance, that they crashed and sank into the Pacific Ocean. Americans as well as others remained riveted to their radios and read newspapers as they followed the progress of the search for the missing aviatrix and her navigator.
• 19 •Flight Questions
Numerous questions were subsequently raised relative to Earhart’s flight that have yet to be answered adequately. For one, why were Earhart and Noonan unable to see the dense column of smoke emitted by the Itasca at a time when the ship’s radio operators were convinced she was close to the vessel, if not directly overhead? It has been reported that similar plumes of smoke were able to be seen for great distances with little difficulty, and such a measure was used effectively numerous times in the past. Such a plume would have been impossible to miss. The answer may lie in the notion that Earhart and Noonan were nowhere near the Itasca. Subsequent research is strongly suggestive of the possibility that the Electra was in the area of the Marshall Islands over eight hundred miles to the northwest.
Related to the above, why was Noonan’s navigation presumed to be so far off that they were unable to find Howland Island? Up to the point of arriving near their designated destination, as many believe they did, Noonan’s navigating skills had served them well on the journey. It must be pointed out that he navigated them across the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean and the Sahara Desert only days earlier with little to no difficulty. Noonan had successfully navigated more than a dozen flights to Wake Island during his days with Pan American Airways. Wake Island was not much bigger than Howland. It should have been a simple task to locate the island.
Why couldn’t Earhart get a minimum with her Bendix direction finder? It is an established fact that Earhart was less than competent and relatively uncooperative when it came to utilizing specialized radio equipment. Fred Noonan, however, was not only an accomplished and competent navigator, he knew his way around such communication devices and could have transmitted and received information easily. There is no evidence that any of the radio equipment was faulty. A possible answer may lie in the notion that Earhart, assuming she was on a clandestine aerial survey mission for the U.S. government, did not want her precise location identified.
Why couldn’t Earhart hear the transmissions from the Itasca on 3,105 kilocycles? The fact that she did not respond to such transmissions is neither proof nor evidence that she did not hear them. If she was purposely off course relative to her aforementioned and hypothesized mission, she may very well have chosen to ignore such messages.
Another curious aspect of the series of events and circumstances involving this particular leg of the Earhart flight is related to the fact that the logs of the Itasca for this time period were classified “secret” for twenty-five years before being released on July 2, 1962. Those who have examined the logs have pointed out that (1) a great deal of confusion was manifest and (2) they appeared to have been tampered with. What is also apparent is that Warner K. Thompson, the Itasca’s commander, had no inkling of what his mission was. He was ordered to Howland Island from Honolulu. He presumed his responsibility was to assist Earhart, thus he had to radio division headquarters at San Francisco to provide him with her radio frequencies, schedules, and plans. Division headquarters reported back that they did not know. They informed Thompson that they heard a rumor that she might be using 6,210 kilocycles at fifteen minutes before the hour and fifteen minutes after in order to take bearings.
Most “authorized” inquiries, those supported by the U.S. government, into the disappearance of Amelia Earhart and Fred Noonan have been constructed around the belief that the Electra was close to Howla
nd Island but ran out of fuel and crashed into the Pacific Ocean. Given that Earhart was on a special mission for the U.S. government, several alternative theories have been given attention over the decades following the disappearance. The more researchers and others among the curious have looked into what was being described as a mysterious disappearance, the more questions were raised. Among them were several related to the destination of record—Howland Island.
• 20 •The Mystery of Howland Island
Howland Island is a tiny landmass in the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean and is located 850 miles southeast of the Marshall Islands, slightly north of the equator, and 1,900 miles southwest of Honolulu. It is two miles long and perhaps a half mile wide, and it rises only a few feet above sea level. During the nineteenth century, when whaling was active in that part of the Pacific and when navigation was less sophisticated, ships often missed the island.
Many have wondered why Earhart and Noonan elected to land and refuel on such a tiny speck of land in the middle of the ocean, assuming it was their decision at all. The rationale for selecting this location may have come entirely from officials of the U.S. government.
Within a reasonable distance of Howland Island was Canton Island in the Phoenix group. This entire cluster of small islands in this remote section of the Pacific Ocean, unlike Howland Island, could have been spotted with no trouble at all. Furthermore, Canton Island boasted a long and well-maintained landing strip, one that had been recently constructed by Pan American Airways.
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