Tag Archives: Bluebird CN7

The Double

Bluebird CN7 sits poised on her built-in jackass Lake Eyre In South Australia.

The year 2014 marks the 50th anniversary of Donald Campbell’s incredible double world speed records set on both land and water. No other person has ever achieved this mammoth feat in the same calendar year, and it is highly unlikely that it will ever be repeated.

As a boy living in England, I was aware of Campbell and his achievements, and it was a shock to see the terrible accident on television that claimed his life on January the 4th 1967 on Coniston Water in Cumbria. It was a moment from the 60’s that stayed with me.

The following month, in February 1967, my family immigrated to Australia, and little did I realise when we settled in South Australia that this was where Campbell had broken the World Land Speed Record.

Some years later, in 1981, two wonderful articles appeared in “Wheels” magazine, which rekindled my interest in Campbell. Written superbly by Evan Green who was Ampol’s Project Manager for the record attempt at Lake Eyre, it gave a remarkable insight into Campbell and the struggles he faced with the record attempt while trying to overcome his own demons.

This set me on course to gather a wide range of research material on Campbell that has continued this day. Part of this journey back in 1991 resulted in funding from FilmSouth, to write a two-part TV mini-series about the events at Lake Eyre. Unfortunately, the project fell over several times due to circumstances beyond my control.  However, in 1997, I had feature articles published about the record attempts in both Australia and the U.K., while appropriately this July I have an article entitled  “The Double” in SALife magazine.

Campbell discusses problems with the track to his team.

Campbell discusses problems with the track to his team.

My reason for mentioning all this is that for many years to have an interest in Donald Campbell was akin to being a Bluebird “anorak”, and at times it seemed as though there was a certain amount of apathy towards his achievements.

But what is refreshing, in this 50th anniversary year, is that the communities in Australia that were touched by his record attempts are coming together to celebrate them.  Thanks to those that were involved in some way with the record attempts and others that witnessed them or have heard anecdotes from friends or family, there has been a groundswell of community support.

The people of the Shire of Dumbleyung in Western Australia have been gearing up for a big 50th celebration of Donald’s World Water Speed Record, set on December 31st, and they would welcome any visitors to share in the new years eve celebration. The Dumbleyung Bluebird committee is building a full-size replica of Bluebird K7 and has acquired a former post office building that will become a Bluebird interpretive centre.   Donations to their fund are welcome, and they have a terrific web page at www.dumbleyungbluebird.com.au as well as a great Facebook page.

Jean Pearse captured the scramble to get the World Water Speed Record with only hours of light. remaining

Jean Pearse captured the scramble to get the World Water Speed Record with only hours of light. remaining

In South Australia, the community of Barmera is also fundraising towards building their own Bluebird K7 replica to be placed on the shore of Lake Bonney where Campbell set an Australian National Water Speed record on November 23rd, 1964, before it proved unsuitable for the world record attempt.  The Barmera committee is also working hard towards establishing a Campbell and Bluebird museum as well. Their 50th-anniversary celebrations will take place over the weekend of November 22nd-23rd.  They also have a very good web page at www.k7projectbluebird.net and also an excellent facebook page.

Perhaps the most pleasing thing that has occurred through these hard-working community committees is a significant number of unseen photographs, movie films and personal recollections that have surfaced on these marvellous websites for everyone to share.  And just as importantly they are helping Donald Campbell’s outstanding achievements finally get the kind of recognition that they really do deserve.

Words Geoff Dawes © 2014 Photographs John Workman and Jean Pearse  © 1964. Video courtesy www.dumbleyungbluebird.com.au and YouTube.

Showdown On The Salt

There are few places on planet earth that are as alien in appearance as the desolate surroundings of Bonneville Salt Flats. Situated not far from the Wendover Air Force Base in the State of Utah USA, this extraterrestrial looking terrain, covered by an expansive sheet of grubby white salt and girdled by a jagged brown-black mountain range, became an eerie backdrop for one of the greatest gatherings of outright Land Speed Record contenders the world had ever seen.

Four Americans and their streamlined leviathans assembled on the salt during a cool August in 1960 to try and break Englishman John Cobb’s 1947 record of 634.40kph (394.20mph) which for 13 years had stood unchallenged. In a flurry of national pride, it became the aim of these four very different individuals to recapture the title that was last held by the United States in 1928, when Ray Keech, driving his White Triplex Special, exceeded Captain Malcolm Campbell’s record of 333.063kph (206.956mph) by a mere 0.959kph (0.596mph).

But in 1960 the array of potential record breakers was even more formidable.

Athol Graham, a devout Mormon, had dreamed he would break the Land Speed Record and regarded it as a divine revelation.  His “car”, named the City Of Salt Lake, used the aero engine from industrialist Bill Boeings Miss Wahoo unlimited hydroplane and produced more than 2,238kw (3,000hp).  Clothed in a channelled ex-Air Force fuel drop tank, the agricultural standard of preparation had led some to consider it a “clunker”.  But nonetheless, Graham clocked a surprising 538.76kph (344.761mph) the previous December in the rear wheel drive machine on the Bonneville salt.

Then there was Mickey Thompson, a product of the American Hot Rod scene and the American National Land Speed Record holder.  Thompson was the most experienced of the group and undoubtedly the best prepared with his LSR car Challenger 1.  Although on paper it may have seemed an unsophisticated device, using four scrap 6.7litre V8 Pontiac engines, with supercharging it produced over 2088kw (2,800hp).  The engines were also ingeniously mounted in pairs and facing each other so the power could be transmitted to both the front and rear wheels through their own individual transmissions and final drive.

A newcomer to Land Speed Record breaking was the well-known drag racer, Art Arfons, driving number 12 in his series of soon to be famous Green Monsters. Nicknamed “Anteater” due to its long pointed snout, it used a more powerful version of the Allison aero engine than Graham’s, putting out around 2,834kw (3,800hp) in Arfon’s untried rear-engined machine.

But perhaps the most amazing LSR contender of this gathering was physician Dr Nathan Ostich’s pure thrust jet engined vehicle called Flying Caduceus. Named after the medical emblem taken from Greek mythology, it used a General Electric J47 turbojet from a Boeing B36 bomber, which produced the equivalent of 5,220kw (7,000hp) and was the first of a new breed of jet-engined record contenders.  Although it was technically ineligible, according to the world governing body of motorsport, the F.I.A., Ostich was prepared to thumb his nose at the European based governing body to become the fastest man on land.


Dr Nathan Ostich’s Flying Caduceus powered by a pure thrust jet engine.

The scene was now set for one of the great confrontations in Land Speed Record breaking history.

First to venture onto the salt was Athol Graham. Concerned about the prevailing crosswinds and some aspects of Graham’s engineering, the experienced Mickey Thompson talked caution to the Mormon idealist. Off his own back, Thompson had already asked for a telephone pole to be removed at the southern end of the course to reduce any potential risk during Graham’s run. But Graham could not be dissuaded and using full power from the Allison aero engine he rocketed his two-wheel drive vehicle flat out down the salt.  The City of Salt Lake was clocking over 482.80kph (300mph) when tragedy struck. The strong crosswinds caused the home built special to yaw off course and snap sideways into a tumble before losing its tail and becoming airborne.  With a sickening crunch, City Of Salt Lake landed upside down before rolling over and over.  There was little hope for Graham who had not worn a safety harness.  Although an inbuilt roll bar had withstood the numerous impacts, the engine firewall had crumpled, protruding into the car and breaking Graham’s spine.  He was dead on arrival at Tooele Valley Hospital 177km (110 miles) away.

If this was to be a warning of how treacherous Bonneville could be, it did not work.  Five days later 52-year-old Los Angeles physician, Dr Nathan Ostich, took his jet-powered car out on the salt.  Designed and engineered by Ray Brock, the publisher of Hot Rod magazine and hot rod doyen Ak Miller, Flying Caduceus had been wind tunnel tested at California Poly Tech, and with 5220kw (7,000hp) on hand, it was calculated to be capable of 804.67kph (500mph). But problems with a porous fuel pump, collapsing air intakes, then severe vibrations and brake and steering problems forced Ostich and his team to eventually withdraw.

Even so, the flying doctor salvaged some pride by reaching over 482.80kph (300mph) during one precarious run.

Art Arfrons contender nicknamed "Ant Eater". Its clear to see why.

Art Arfons contender nicknamed “Ant Eater”. It’s clear to see why.

Art Arfons took briefly to the salt with his Allison rear-engined Green Monster, only to have a bearing go in the cars final drive on the return run. Arfons released his breaking parachute, which then promptly snapped its nylon line.  Even though his first probe run had reached almost 402.33kph (250mph) with plenty in hand, Arfons acknowledged that “Anteater” was not up to Land Speed Record breaking standard and withdrew.

In the meantime Thompson had been building up speed, making one run at an impressive 569.70kph (354mph).  He too had been encountering problems, the suspensionless Challenger 1 suffering from a lack of front wheel adhesion, which was finally solved with some extra ballast and an aerofoil above the nose of the car.  Thompson was now ready for some serious runs, but an unexpected downpour had washed away the black guideline and the oil truck re-laying it became bogged in the mud flats.  This did not faze Thompson at all, and he elected to run without the guideline, easily managing a one-way speed of 596.67kph (372 mph).  Buoyed by this Thompson was ready to go for the record, and with his next run recorded a sizzling speed of 654.35kph (406.60mph). This was faster than Cobb’s best run of 648.783kph (403.135mph), and Thompson knew if he could get a half decent return run through the measured mile then his two-way average would be enough to beat Cobb’s record by the required minimum of one percent.  America would, at last, regain the world record.

Challenger 1, Mickey Thompson's National Land Speed Record holder.

Challenger 1, Mickey Thompson’s American National Land Speed Record holder.

Regrettably, as so often happens in record-breaking, the return run was an anti-climax with Challenger 1 suffering a broken driveshaft.  Thompson did try his luck again, but this time a broken chain driving a supercharger put paid to Mickey’s dream.

There was, however, one more record contender.  Arriving at Bonneville in early September in an attempt to usurp any American record, enigmatic Englishman, Donald Campbell, returned to where his father, Sir Malcolm Campbell, had set a new outright Land Speed Record of 484.620kph (301.129mph) in 1935 to become the first man to break through the 483kph (300mph) barrier.

As a fourteen-year-old boy, Donald had witnessed his father’s triumph. Twenty-five years later and with six World Water Speed Records under his belt, Campbell was challenging for the record his father had held nine times. In keeping with family tradition Donald also named his record-breaking hydroplane and his Land Speed Record contender, “Bluebird”, as his father had, in honour of Maeterlinck’s play, “The Blue Bird”.

Doanld Campbell's Bluebird CN7. British pride and prestige was at stake.

Donald Campbell’s Bluebird CN7. British pride and prestige were at stake.

But if the American gang had been imposing, it was Campbell’s entourage that made the hard to impress Americans jaws drop.  With nearly a hundred personnel, forty tons of equipment and a convoy of support vehicles, it would have been hard not to gasp at the sheer size of Campbell’s undertaking.

And then there was Bluebird herself.  Designed by Ken and Lewis Norris, (who had also been responsible for Campbell’s World Record-breaking hydroplane) Bluebird CN7 had been built by Motor Panels, a subsidiary of Sir Alfred Owen’s Rubery-Owen group, with the support of approximately 80 British companies and at the cost of close to one million pounds sterling. The massive car was powered by a Bristol-Siddeley Proteus gas-turbine engine producing 3,057kw (4,1000hp) at 11,000rpm that powered all four wheels through two David Brown fixed ratio gearboxes.  Bluebird was to be a shining example of British technology and engineering at its best, and no expense had been spared in this pursuit.

Unimpressed by the Englishman’s seemingly limitless resources. Thompson played on Campbell’s superstitious nature by telling him how poor the condition of the salt was in an attempt to psyche him out.  Arfons too was critical of the fact that Campbell had not driven Bluebird before coming to Bonneville and dryly referred to it as, “on the job training”.

Now it was time for Sir Malcolm’s son to prove himself.

Campbell (left )in discussion with Mickey Thompson (right). Thompson played on Campbell's surreptitious nature.

Campbell (left )in discussion with Mickey Thompson (right). Thompson played on Campbell’s surreptitious nature.

Campbell initially made some gentle runs to get accustomed to the monstrous blue car, building up slowly from 200kph (124mph) to 386kph (240mph) before asking for the steering ratio to be lowered after the runs.

Despite still being unhappy with the steering, Campbell went back out to make his fifth run.  Bluebird managed to accelerate to 483kph (300mph) within three miles, putting a smile of relief on Campbell’s face. CN7’s designer, Ken Norris, promptly reminded him that the minimum required was two miles if they were to achieve a new record.   Campbell then made what would be a fateful decision to do some acceleration tests. Norris was clearly unhappy about this and Dunlop tyres Don Badger also reminded Campbell that the test tyres fitted to CN7 were only good for 483kph (300mph).

On the return run Campbell accelerated the massively powerful car much harder and had reached almost 580kph (360mph), when, in circumstances almost identical to Athol Graham’s accident, Bluebird strayed progressively off course before spinning sideways and rolling over.  The massive 4,354kg (9,600lb) car suddenly leapt into the air for what seemed like an eternity before crashing back down onto the salt as it continued to roll over, shedding wheels and bodywork until finally sliding on its belly to a halt.

Campbell somehow survived the worlds fastest automobile accident.

Campbell somehow survived the worlds fastest automobile accident.

Although sustaining a fractured skull, contusion of the brain, a burst inner ear and various lacerations, Campbell had somehow survived the world’s fastest automobile accident.  But the car was a total write-off except for the Proteus gas-turbine engine and some minor ancillary components.

Bonneville Salt Flats and Cobb’s record had not been conquered. But this was to be just a prelude to a new chapter, as Campbell and a rebuilt Bluebird would challenge for the record again in Australia, while Arfons, Ostich and Thompson would try their hand once more at Bonneville.  For as different as these men were, they all shared the same dream and possessed the same kind of superhuman courage and determination that is needed to try and become the fastest man on land.

Words Geoff Dawes (C) 2002.  Images courtesy http://www.samuelhawley.com, http://www.gregwapling.com, http://www.thompsonlsr.com, http://www.dburnett.photoshelter.com, and http://www.rbracing-rsr.com.

Archives: The Longest Mile

Bluebird k7 becomes airborne.

” Full power…tramping like hell here…I can’t see much and the water’s very bad indeed…I can’t get over the top…I’m getting a lot of bloody row in here…I can’t see anything…I’ve got the bows out…I’m going…Oh…”

It was over five decades ago, on January 4th, 1967, that British speed ace, Donald Campbell, lost his life to the cold dark waters of Lake Coniston in the English Lake District.  In a macabre sense, it was a fitting end to Britain’s most enigmatic record breaker and one that lifted him from a flawed hero into legend.

For Donald Campbell had appeared to be many things.  He was fiercely patriotic, extremely superstitious, generous and charming one minute, arrogant and uncompromising the next.  But to those who got close enough, Donald Campbell was full of a gnawing self-doubt that did not sit well with the popular belief of what a hero should be.

To understand this man that had broken the World Water Speed Record on seven occasions, and the Land Speed Record once, one has to search his past.

Born in 1921 the son of Sir Malcolm Campbell, Britain’s most successful record breaker, it was hardly surprising that he would one day try and emulate the man he hero-worshipped, even idolised.  But Sir Malcolm was a tough, overbearing, and some would say, cruel father, who had unrealistically high expectations for a son who did not shine academically at school, and who much preferred to be playing sport or working with his hands.

Bluebird CN7 sits poised on her built-in jacks.

Bluebird CN7 sits poised on her built-in jacks.

Indeed, the young boy afflicted with a nervous stutter barely survived a childhood fraught with accidents and illness.

At the age of eight Donald was taken by his father on an unsuccessful record attempt to South Africa, and upon returning to England contracted typhoid fever, which very nearly claimed his life.  Eight years later he came down with rheumatic fever, a debilitating disease that permanently damages the hearts’ valves, forcing the teenager to be wheelchair bound for many months.  Then the following year, he fell from his motorcycle and fractured his skull in two places.

When war broke out in 1939, Donald spent no time in enlisting for the RAF but was rejected when it was discovered he had suffered rheumatic fever.  This was an extremely low point in Campbell’s life.  His father, having served in the Royal Flying Corps during the First World War, was acting as a liaison officer in the Middle – East, while Donald filled in time as a special constable and a progress chaser between component manufacturers and aircraft constructors.

Donald was quoted as saying, “It appeared I was somewhat of a failure.  The Old Man was doing a real job of work, and here was I, playing at Policeman and having bloody silly accidents.”  The accident in question was between his motorcycle and an army truck, which resulted in a broken shoulder, two cracked ribs and a broken arm.

It was not until after the war, following the death of his father and the auction of his estate, that Campbell decided to don the mantle.  A friend of Sir Malcolm’s, Lt. Col. “Goldie” Gardner, visited Donald and told him of an American threat to his father’s World Water Speed Record.  Campbell had decided years earlier to follow in his father’s footsteps but had been reluctant to throw his hat into the ring while Sir Malcolm was still record-breaking, “The Old Man being what he is.”

Donald Campbell in discussion with Andrew Mustard at Lake Eyre.

Donald Campbell in discussion with Andrew Mustard at Lake Eyre.

Campbell immediately enlisted the help of Leo Villa, who had come to work as Sir Malcolm’s chief mechanic when Donald was only months old and was now almost part of the family.  There was no question that Villa would help.  He had always kept an eye out for the mischievous young Donald, whom among other things he had taught to drive and to dismantle a motorcycle engine.  Campbell would also continue another family tradition by naming his record-breaking car and boat, Bluebird, just as his father had, in honour of Maeterlinck’s play The Blue Bird.

Although Sir Malcolm had been a wealthy man, making his fortune as an insurance broker with Lloyd’s, he had left little money to Donald and his sister Jean.  Most of it was held in trust for Sir Malcolm’s grandchildren, granting only a modest ten-pound a week allowance to his own children.  Record-breaking had been an expensive hobby to Sir Malcolm, but for Donald finding enough money would always be a problem.

In fact, after six frustrating years of trying to break the record with his father’s old boat, Campbell was forced to sell his share in the successful engineering firm, Kine’s, and mortgage his home to finance a new design Bluebird hydroplane that would finally give him a new World Water Speed Record of 202.32mph in 1955.

In doing so, he had succeeded in breaking the hypothetical “water barrier”, claimed by its proponents to lurk at 200mph and cause such severe buffeting to the hull of a boat that it would eventually disintegrate.  Campbell had proven this to be wrong, and for the next five years, he continued to push the record higher, leaving it at 260.33mph.

Campbell's third wife Tonia Bern in an off guard moment at Lake Eyre.

Campbell’s third wife Tonia Bern in an off-guard moment at Lake Eyre.

However, the cost of his success on a personal level had been extremely high.  His first two marriages had failed, due in no small part to Campbell’s single-minded preoccupation with record-breaking.  He would marry his third wife on Christmas eve 1958, and outwardly, Tonia Bern, a well-known Belgian cabaret artist, seemed like an odd match.  But they were both determined, strong-willed characters, and Tonia understood that in an age of increasing commercial sponsorship, they were both, to a degree, in “show-business”.

But it was after his second World Water Speed Record on Lake Mead in the United States that the idea for Campbell’s most significant challenge gelled.

In 1947, Englishman John Cobb had set an outright Land Speed Record of 394.20mph which for years had stood unchallenged.  It now became Campbell’s obsession to recapture the record his father had held nine times.  He even toyed with the idea of breaking both the water and land record on the same day!

At this time Campbell’s stock had never been higher, and he was able to persuade, charm and cajole, eighty British companies to support his quest for the land record.

After a fanfare of publicity, in September 1960, Campbell took the enormously expensive gas-turbine Bluebird car to Bonneville Salt Flats and very nearly killed himself.

Campbell prepares to make another run at Lake Eyre.

Campbell prepares to make another run at Lake Eyre.

Anxious to get the record, he accelerated the massively powerful car too hard, too soon.  It became airborne at 360mph before slamming back down onto the salt track, bouncing back into the air then rolling over several times as it shed wheels and bodywork, before finally sliding on its belly to a halt.  Somehow though, Campbell had survived the world’s fastest automobile accident.

But the car was gone, a total write-off except for the gas turbine engine.  When it became known from Campbell’s hospital bedside that his first concern was the Bluebird car, and how soon he could have another crack at the record, his sponsors’ rallied.  Sir Alfred Owen, a hard-nosed north England industrialist whose company, Motor Panels, had been responsible for constructing Bluebird, immediately sent off a telegram offering to build Campbell a new car.

Bonneville Salt Flats, however, was no longer considered a suitable venue, the American track being considered too short to exploit Bluebird’s full potential.  Campbell’s longtime sponsor, British Petroleum, suggested an alternative.  It was a little-known salt lake in the far north of South Australia called Lake Eyre.

Base camp southern end of the lake.

Base camp southern end of the lake.

There had been a drought at Lake Eyre for seven years, but as soon as Campbell and his huge entourage arrived in the Australian autumn of 1963, the heavens opened.  The bad weather would plague the Bluebird team from that point on, eventually flooding the lake and causing the abandonment of the record attempt that year.

Then came another blow.  On August 5th, 1963 an almost unknown American set a new record of 407.45mph at Bonneville Salt Flats.  His name was Craig Breedlove, and his “car” was a three-wheeled device with a pure thrust jet engine called Spirit of America.  It did not, however, conform to the rules laid down by motorsports world governing body the F.I.A., and the record was not recognised officially.

But it did fire increasing criticism of the Bluebird Project.  Sir Alfred Owen arrived in Australia with a flurry of publicity, accusing Campbell of mismanaging the record attempt, while questioning his ability to drive the car to its full potential.  He also raised questions over who actually owned Bluebird.  Campbell retaliated by challenging Owen to a television debate and finally had his solicitor issue a writ for defamation on Sir Alfred in his Adelaide hotel.

More fuel was added to the fire, when later that year, Breedlove also arrived in Adelaide, and after examining Lake Eyre as a possible venue for his next record attempt declared he could go faster with a fraction of the money and support that Campbell had at his disposal.

Eventually, Campbell’s dispute with Owen was resolved, but by this time he found himself locked into staging the attempt at Lake Eyre.  So in 1964, he returned only to face the same problems with the weather, the car, and a team who had started to believe in a Campbell jinx.  Even Campbell’s ability to drive Bluebird was brought into question as rumours of a phobia of really high speeds persisted, because, it was said, of his Bonneville crash.

Campbell discusses problems with the track to his team.

Campbell discusses problems with the track after a run.

And indeed, Campbell’s approach was cautious.  The effects of the crash had taken their toll, and the possibility of damaging the car again must have weighed heavily on his mind.  But to the press and an increasingly sceptical public, Campbell no longer had what it takes.

To make matters worse, Andrew Mustard, a significant member of the team whom Campbell had contracted to build the track on Lake Eyre, and who was also responsible for the enormous Dunlop tyres fitted to the Bluebird car, became increasingly critical of Campbell’s reluctance to go for the record.  As Bluebirds nominated reserve driver, he began to openly offer to do the job himself.

More controversy erupted when the Confederation of Australian Motorsport officials, whose job it was to verify the record should it be achieved, insisted that Campbell have a medical examination on the grounds he was unfit to drive Bluebird.  A huge argument ensued, putting the whole record attempt in jeopardy until a compromise was reached and Campbell agreed to take the medical.

Weeks dragged past as trouble with the track, and the weather continued, until finally, on July 17th, 1964, on a track surface that was far from ideal, Campbell at last set a new official Land Speed Record of 403.10mph.

Longines timing photograph. The record at last.

Longines timing photograph. The record at last.

It was still, however, in the back of Campbell’s mind to try for “the double”, a feat not even achieved by his father, and plans were laid in Australia for an attempt on his own World Water Speed Record.

Lake Bonney at Barmera in the South Australian Riverland was tried, but poor weather made it unsuitable.  Lake Dumbleyung in Western Australia held promise, but problems again with the weather made it seem as though breaking both records in the same calendar year would elude Campbell.

The team had just about given up, when on the last day of 1964, with only three hours of light remaining, conditions improved sufficiently for Campbell to set a new World Water Speed record of 276.3mph.

This was to be Campbell’s swan song, for now, the world was looking to the heavens for its heroes.  The space race had generated a new breed of men, strapped atop enormous rockets, full of raw, explosive power, yet controlled with incredible precision by computers.  With almost monotonous regularity these men were tossed into space, orbiting the earth at over 26,000mph.

Bluebird K7 on display at Barmera in the South Australian river land.

Bluebird K7 on display at Barmera in the South Australian Riverland.

Donald Campbell became a man trapped between eras, belonging to neither.  Few were interested when he proposed a new rocket-powered car to break the sound barrier.  Science, it was said, not a man’s bravery, would now test the laws of psychics.

Perhaps then, on that cold winters morning at Lake Coniston, there was only one piece of equipment aboard the Bluebird hydroplane that could not have been scientifically perfected – only one component that was truly being tested to its limit and way beyond.  Perhaps it had always been, Donald Campbell himself.

Words Geoff Dawes (C) 1997. Colour photographs John Workman (C) 1964.  B/W photo’s courtesy Les Jackson.  Article published in Classic and Sports Car April 1997 and Australian Classic Car June 1997.