Winds for Wings

Last week Wendell Willkie arrived in the U. S. gusty with a new enthusiasm: meteorology. He had been in on an exciting experiment. At i a.m., high over the dark Atlantic, he had tumbled out of his berth and into the navigating room of Pan American Airways' homebound Dixie Clipper. With President Juan Terry Trippe and other Pan American officials, Willkie eagerly watched the instrument panels as the huge ship droned along at various altitudes, feeling out strange east winds on her tail. At 4,000 to 5,000 feet the passengers' smiles were broadest, the plane making the best time.

The Clipper was trying a new route. For the first time she dipped far south of her usual Lisbon-Azores-Bermuda route, went via Portuguese Guinea and Trinidad. The southern route was nearly twice as long; yet the Clipper carried double her usual load of men and mails for the U. S. Reason: instead of carrying extra fuel to buck wintry, 50-mile westerlies, the plane coasted along on a firm east wind. It was the trade wind, friend of mariners since Columbus' day.

Trade winds are the most reliable part of the planet's basic air movement, which is from the equator toward the poles. On the equator itself are the doldrums, where hot air rising makes little or no breeze. North and south of the doldrums the upper air begins its poleward journey by flowing steadily westward. Then it slowly shifts to become a south wind, shifts again in the temperate zone to become the prevailing westerlies. Far from their equatorial source, winds are made unpredictable by local forces. But the trades, neglected by the Age of Steam, are still blowing their ancient course. Passenger Willkie saw their first use by U. S. commercial air lines.

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