Behind the smiles: The chaos on board 'glamorous' first flight to Bristol

It's 90 years this week since Ireland's national airline first took to the skies, choosing Bristol as its destination. It was welcomed locally as the start of luxurious international travel, though from this distance it just looks crude, dangerous and uncomfortable. Eugene Byrne says you'll never get him up in one of those things. People's recollections of the first ever international flight from Ireland, and the first ever international flight to arrive at Bristol's airport, include a couple of stories which might be true, or which might be mis-remembered from later flights. Who knows? Memories can be deceptive, as we all know. So in one story, one of the passengers felt queasy, then worse. There were no air-sickness bags in 1936, so he had to use his bowler hat ... At the time, the only cargo recorded as being carried on the flight were some copies of the Irish Times, but in 1966 at a banquet to mark the 30th anniversary at Bristol's Grand Hotel, the former airport manager recalled that it also carried a pair of greyhounds. "They ripped a hole in their cage," recalled Leonard Williams. "And then they chewed through the fabric of the aircraft. The plane came in with their two heads sticking through the side of the fuselage!" Both tales might be true, but we can't be sure. Media coverage of the event at the time was quite muted. Perhaps no-one really grasped how it was an historic moment. Not just Bristol's first international flight, but also the first outing for Aer Lingus, Ireland's national airline. British headlines that day – May 27 1936 – were dominated by the Queen Mary setting off from Southampton on her maiden voyage. The immense Cunard liner's stop-start construction had been hamstrung by money problems, but now she was finally ready, carrying British pride onto the high seas. By contrast, the arrival of a little aeroplane with five passengers – Queen Mary carried 2,000 – in a provincial British airport barely merited a mention. It was only worth a couple of paragraphs and a picture in the local press. Besides, compared to the sheer size and glamour of a Cunard liner, the maiden flight of Aer Lingus's only plane was a literal wing-and-a-prayer affair. Aer Lingus nowadays has a fleet of over 80 aircraft, 4,000 employees, and a turnover in excess of 2.5 billion Euros. In 1936 it had one plane, 12 staff and its starting capital had been advanced by an English company while it awaited Irish government funding. The company HQ was a hut at Baldonnel Aerodrome, near Dublin. The airfield was also used to pasture sheep which had to be moved out of the way on the few occasions a plane was taking off or landing. At 9am on May 27 1936, there was a small gathering to see the first flight off. The aeroplane, a de Havilland Dragon, was blessed by the local priest, Father O'Riordan, and there were speeches from Seán Lemass, Ireland's Minister for Industry and Seán Ó hUadhaigh, the chairman of the new company. The plane, named 'Iolar' (Irish for eagle) would look impossibly frail to modern eyes, a biplane of wood and canvas which you could easily imagine a pair of greyhounds effortlessly vandalising. Its passengers were airline director, W. H. Morton, plus Mr and Mrs T. Fitzherbert, Mrs Seán Ó hUadhaigh (the Aer Lingus Chairman's wife) and Mr T. J. O'Driscoll of the Irish chamber of Commerce. Mr and Mrs Fitzherbert were the only fare-paying passengers – Mrs Fitzherbert had been given the tickets by her father over dinner the previous evening - the others all being associated with the airline. The sixth seat was empty, or maybe it was for the greyhounds or the Irish newspapers. The aircraft, piloted by Eric Armstrong took to the sky, understanding it would be a grey and overcast day over Bristol. Armstrong's was a highly skilled and demanding job, and he was doing it all on his own – no navigator or flight engineer. The only concession to in-flight maintenance was a biscuit tin containing a few spare parts stowed under the pilot's seat. There was no air traffic control, no satellite guidance, and the radio could transmit but not receive. On a later flight, one of the passengers, an experienced sea captain, thanked Armstrong when they landed in Bristol. He found the experience of going up into the clouds, then seeing no land until the plane reached Bristol astonishing. He had sailed the world, he said, but how the pilot had smoothly brought his plane to Bristol was something he would never understand. Meanwhile, at Whitchurch just a few of the airport staff and a handful of local dignitaries awaited Iolar's arrival. She was due to arrive at 11am, but at that point there was no sign of her. Then, the distant sound of engines ... which continued for half an hour because the airfield was shrouded in fog. The plane circled until finally, 50 minutes late, Captain Armstrong thought it was safe to land. The plane taxied up and her engines spluttered to a halt. While we might consider the flight hair-raising, the small article in the Western Daily Press noting the new Bristol-Dublin service called it "luxury travel". There was no big reception, no Lord Mayor. But the pilot and passengers were welcomed by members of Bristol City Council's Airport Committee (the Council owned and managed the airport), Alderman A.A. Senington and Cllr R.F. Lyne before being taken by car to Temple Meads to go on to London by train. Bristol was a natural first destination for Éire's new state airline, given its location and the historic links, and the service would connect with rail services to and from London. In the coming months this worked well – for those who could afford the £4 single ticket or £7 return. But not that day. Interviewed at the 30th anniversary celebrations in 1966 Mrs Sheelah Martin – wife of the late Mr Fitzherbert and now re-married – recalled that they missed the connection to London. "It was ironic that we got there later than if we had followed the original plan to go the whole way by boat-train." But the service was up and running, and mostly problem-free. There was one occasion on which a strong wind helped blow Iolar to Bristol in record time. But she would be flying against that same wind on the way back and would likely run out of fuel, so was delayed. Just a few months later Aer Lingus invested in a new, more modern aircraft, a de Havilland Dragon Rapide which would stop at Bristol before continuing on to London's Croydon Airport. Its first flight to Bristol carried the Lord Mayor of Dublin, and this time the Lord Mayor of Bristol did turn up to greet the arrival. The service would turn out to be a great success by the standards of the time. It was punctual ( weather permitting) and in its first 12 months carried 892 passengers and nearly four tons of cargo and mail. Everything stopped though for the Second World War. The resulting disruptions and money problems meant that it was 1951 before a direct Aer Lingus link between Bristol and Dublin was resumed. The brave little Iolar, meanwhile, was sold to an English company in 1938 and tragically was shot down near the Scilly Isles by enemy aircraft in 1941. Aer Lingus bought an identical machine in 1967 and it was restored by volunteers over several years in the 1980s to look just like the original. It's still in flying condition and has appeared at several air shows and flying displays.