Battle With Speed
Published in Motor Boat & Yachting , January 13 1967, Written by: Erroll Bruce

DONALD CAMPBELL'S life was a battle of speed. On water he extended the fringe of knowledge further than any man has done, before he died at great speed afloat. Erroll Bruce here writes, as a friend, of Donald Campbell's achievements, and of why he kept on when so many advised him to rest on his laurels.

HURTLING across Coniston Water on the return run, after doing 297 m.p.h. on the first leg, "Bluebird" was within 150 yards of completing the measured kilometre, with a new world record of over 300 m.p.h. almost certain. Suddenly the boat took off, somersaulted and crashed. Donald Campbell was dead and "Bluebird" sunk; together they were holders of the world's water speed record of 276.33 m.p.h., which they gained on Lake Dumbleyung. Australia, during the last day of 1964.

Seven times has Donald Campbell established a new world's water speed record in "Bluebird". In July, 1965 he achieved 202 m.p.h. on Ullswater, which was 60 m.p.h. more than his father's last world record afloat, gained on Coniston Water in 1939, when Sir Malcolm took "Blue Bird" at 141.74 m.p.h. Between these Campbell records, Stanley Sayres twice raised the speed in "Slo-mo-shun IV" on Lake Washington.

No one else except Donald Campbell has achieved more than 205 m.p.h. afloat - it was at this speed that John Cobb was killed on Loch Ness in 1952; it was Donald's contention that the biggest problem of speed on the water was keeping control through and above the water barrier, which, in a special article in the December 31, 1965 issue of Motor Boat and Yachting, he described as starting at 215 m.p.h. "At this point, vision starts to go; instrument panel, nose, water and horizon become one vibrating, merging blur. The right foot, however tightly wedged on the throttle, goes out of control. The engine revolution counter oscillates wildly, faster than the eye can follow the needle. In this situation a hand throttle is useless, since directional control is akin to running whilst carrying a shallow tray full of water. Both hands are best kept on the wheel."

After his first world record in July,1955, he went up to 216 m.p.h. that same autumn on Lake Mead. Nevada; in each of the next four years he raised the record on Coniston Water. Then, with the speed standing at 260.35 m.p.h., most people felt that "Bluebird", built of Birmabright light alloy on a high tensile chrome-molybdenum tubular steel frame. and powered with a Metropolitan-Vickers Beryl jet, had more than achieved her purpose, as Kenneth and Lewis Norris had designed her for a maximum speed of 250 m.p.h., and a probable life of two years.

In 1964 Donald Campbell, who had a special feeling of pride in this boat, decided to bring her out again for one part of an amazing effort to gain in one year new world records on land and water. With the land record achieved for a car driving through the wheels, he gained the new water record on the last day of the year; this followed a dramatic trek across Australia with "Bluebird' when Lake Bonney became impossible, as the first flood of the River Murray in 12 years poured down ice-cold water to stir up continual surface turbulence.

Even the day he got back to England with his double triumph won, he told me that he was convinced that he must go on for the 300 m.p.h. mark as soon as possible in a new and more powerful boat, although he was then more concerned with raising support to build a jet car for the world land record.

It was in my Motor Boat and Yachting office about a year ago that he concluded a long talk about another water record attempt with the request to borrow my telephone. I knew then that he had firmly decided he must try to get to 300 m.p.h. with the same faithful old "Bluebird"; he hoped that even this speed would be possible on the limited length of Coniston Water.

This autumn, when a new Bristol Siddeley Orpheus jet engine had been installed in "Bluebird", and the first trials had proved successful, Donald Campbell invited me to come up and spend a night at his bungalow at Coniston, as he told me that things looked possible for some "very fast trials early the next morning".

It was around midnight when we left the boathouse, and went back to his bungalow. We talked late into the night, and Donald showed no inclination for sleep although we were to be up at dawn. He was in retrospective mood and spoke of many events of the past; he was superstitious, and quoted past omens besides probing into auguries for the coming attempt.

He felt that the know-how which he and his team of Leo Villa and the 'Norris brothers had gained through so many record attempts, was a British wealth of talent which it was his duty to develop. It was vital, he felt, that Britain should remain far ahead of the high speed water ability of any other country.

"But you're already so far ahead of anyone else on the water", I said. "Isn't that enough?" "I daren't stop trying", he answered, "speed is my life".

He went on to tell me that down in the boathouse he had insisted on me sitting in his driver's seat with the cockpit top shut, so that he could explain to me better his feelings - not so much when he had started on a trial, as in when he was strapped in and waiting for the radioed "O.K." from Leo. "I hate it then" - and he looked at me almost with anger; "I really loathe it, Erroll. But I'd hate to be in Leo's place even more. If the chop comes, I'd rather be in it than watching it". No one was more aware of the danger than he, he had lived with it on his mind ever since in 1960 he crashed in the Bluebird car at 300 m.p.h. on Bonneville Salt Flats.

Just before I turned in on the bed he made up for me with cushions on the floor of his bungalow's sitting room. Donald came back from his room with a bundle of his clothes he was lending me for next day's work afloat. "If the chop comes, Erroll, I hope I'm going ruddy fast at the time."

He was - probably 100 m.p.h. faster than any other man has ever been in a boat. The personal tragedy of Donald Campbell's death is dwarfed by his lifetime of triumph over speed.