What was accomplished there is now history, namely the development of a machine that could rise from, or land on, either the land or the water, a feat that had never before been accomplished. It is true that one man had been able to rise from the water; but in attempting to land on the same he had wrecked his machine, so this could not be called a successful experiment. This same machine which had risen from the water and landed on the land and then risen from the land and landed on the water, was flown from the aviation field to the U. S. S. Pennsylvania by Mr. Curtiss, a landing made alongside and the aeroplane hoisted on board with one of the regular boat cranes. No preparations had to be made except to fit a sling over the engine section of the aeroplane so that it could be hooked on the boat crane. The aeroplane was then hoisted over the side and flown back to the aviation field. As I have said, the above paragraph is now history. What is not generally known is the hard work and the many disappointments encountered before the hydroaeroplane was a real success. Mr. Curtiss had two objects in view: First, the development of the hydroaeroplane, and secondly, the personal instruction of his pupils. The latter was accomplished early in the morning and late in the afternoon as these were the only times when the wind conditions were suitable, and the experimental work was carried on during the rest of the day, and, I think, Mr. Curtiss also worked the best part of the remainder of the time, as I well remember one important change that was made as the result of an idea that occurred to him while he was shaving. No less than fifty changes were made from the original idea, and those of us who did not then know Mr. Curtiss well, wondered that he did not give up in despair. Since that time we have learned that anything that he says he can do, he always accomplishes, as he always works the problem out in his mind before making any statement. All of us who were learning to fly were also interested in the construction of the machines, and when not running "Lizzy" (our practice machine) up and down the field, felt honoured at being allowed to help work on the experimental machine. You see it was not Curtiss, the genius and inventor, whom we knew. It was "G. H.," a comrade and chum, who made us feel that we were all working together, and that our ideas and advice were really of some value. It was never a case of "do this" or "do that," to his amateur or to his regular mechanics, but always, "What do you think of making this change?" He was always willing to listen to any argument but generally managed to convince you that his plan was the best. I could write volumes on Curtiss, the man, but fear that I am wandering from the subject in hand.