The Flying Reporter

a Lightship

From day to day he talked with fellow pilots at the Long Island airport, and drew from them as much as he could in the way of helpful suggestions about flying. For some of them had had extremely trying experiences. Whenever he was with newspaper men Jimmy asked as many questions as

come a great reporter. One of his assignments was to fly out to an incoming steamer in a seaplane and bring ashore some important news photographs from Europe. It was on this flight that Jimmy had his first sight

time. He was to get the pictures when the ship slowed down to pick up the pilot who was to guide her up the channel to her dock. Arrange

etch of water about him. He had been ordered to meet the ship when she picked up her pilot. The pilot boat was cruising not far away. Jimmy decided that he would come down on the water,

t of ship, apparently not more than a hundred feet long, with bulging, bulky bow, like that of a Dutch canal-boat. The sides of the vessel were very high for a ship of her length. The ship was a straw color; and pain

hing liner. Then he forced his plane a very little closer to the lightship and waited. At once the man with the coil of rope drew back his arm and flung the line straight toward Jimmy. It sped through the air, uncoiling as it flew, and dropped lightly on the fuselage of the plane. Jimmy stepped out on a wing and secured the

e huge anchor chain and the anchor itself interested Jimmy. The chain was the thickest chain Jimmy had ever seen. The links were made of iron two inches thick, and each link was strengthened by a cast-iron stud. Jimmy whist

he vessel, ready to be let down at a moment's notice. It was a mushroom anchor, and got its name from its shape; for it looked for all

white light, that was visible for twelve out of every fifteen seconds. The light at the forward ma

lash," said Jimmy, "a fellow could find his way by night at sea as easily

each has its distinctive flash. Most of them are on land, but a few are

Once every twelve seconds the submarine bell strikes two groups of two strokes each. And the radio fog-signal of the Ambrose lightship is a continuous string of dashes, exactly like the signal o

. Jimmy knew it was time for him to be stirring. His plane was drawn up to the ship and he got carefully aboard of her. Soon he was in the air. He came down close to the pilot

p the ladder at the side of the ship and spoke to the photographer who stood at the rail, ready with his photographs. These were carefully wrapped for protection. He handed them to a sailor who slipped down the lad

hip, and floated away to a safe distance. Then he rose from the water, headed his plane straight for his landing-place on the southern sho

g togs. Jimmy knew something was in the air. He was just about to ask some one what was up when a mechanic who looked after his ship spied him and shouted: "Call up you