Hard landing at Drew Field hints at trouble to come

The rain was coming down so hard that Lt. Cmdr. Humphrey W. Toomey could barely see.

It was September 25, 1929, and the former Naval aviator was bringing the giant Sikorsky amphibian Pernambuco into Tampa’s Drew Field after a flight from New York. The aircraft belonged to the New York, Rio and Buenos Aires Line—NYRBA—the ambitious airline attempting to challenge Pan American Airways for supremacy in Latin America. The weather had already convinced Toomey and his crew to avoid the airport once. After circling the field, they landed in Tampa Bay and waited offshore as rain swept across the city. But uncertain weather conditions and the prospect of spending the night exposed on the water persuaded them to try the airport again.

As the amphibian approached Drew Field, visibility deteriorated to almost nothing. Rain obscured the windshield so completely that the pilots stood in the cockpit and peered through an opening in the top of the aircraft in order to see. The landing was made virtually blind. Then came the impact. Something tore into the hull. The aircraft’s tail suddenly pitched upward and for a terrifying moment it seemed the giant ship might nose over into the mud. Toomey immediately advanced the throttles. The tail settled back to earth and the aircraft rolled to a stop. A hidden tree stump had ripped into the hull.

The incident was not just an embarrassment for Tampa. As subsequent events would prove, it was a game-changer.

Caught between contending forces

For a few brief months in 1929, Tampa had found itself caught up in one of the most important aviation contests of the age. Air mail contracts, passenger traffic, commercial influence, and access to South America’s growing markets were all at stake. TIME magazine described it as a race to “rope a continent.”

At the center of the struggle stood Pan American Airways and its energetic president, Juan Trippe. From Miami, Pan Am was steadily extending its network throughout the Caribbean and Latin America through a combination of diplomacy, strategic alliances, and political influence.

Its most serious challenger was NYRBA, founded by World War I ace Ralph A. O’Neill. O’Neill envisioned a 7,800-mile route linking New York and Buenos Aires along the Atlantic coast of South America. And he’d decided to make Tampa the southern U.S. terminus for his new airline.

John K. Montgomery: founder turned rival

Among those backing O’Neill was John K. Montgomery, one of aviation’s most intriguing figures. A former WWI military flier, Montgomery had been one of Pan Am’s original founders. Along with Richard Bevier, he helped secure the Key West-Havana air mail contract that enabled Pan American Airways to begin operations. But disagreements followed. Montgomery and Bevier eventually found themselves forced out as Pan Am moved forward under different leadership.

Now Montgomery was back—this time as a rival. His vehicle was American International Airways, a small but ambitious company whose principal asset was a giant Sikorsky S-37 biplane known as the Southern Star.

Sky-high expectations

To Tampa’s civic leaders, the arrival of NYRBA and American International Airways seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime. Newspapers reported that both companies intended to make Tampa their base for South American operations, while Montgomery predicted that multiple aircraft would soon pass through the city each day. The prospect electrified local boosters.

Southern Star embarks for Santiago

On June 30, 1929, thousands turned out to watch Montgomery and his crew take off in the Southern Star on a highly publicized proving flight down the Pacific coast of South America to Santiago, Chile. The mission was both practical and symbolic. It demonstrated that another American airline intended to challenge Pan Am’s growing influence on the continent’s western shore.

TIME magazine called Montgomery’s expedition “a gesture of defiance.” The target was unmistakable. Montgomery did not like the “Pan-American crowd,” TIME observed, and Pan Am knew it.

Historic Andes crossing

The Southern Star reached Santiago, Chile, on July 13, 1929. Then came the achievement for which the aircraft would be remembered. On July 27, the New York Times reported that the giant Sikorsky had completed the first commercial transport crossing of the Andes Mountains. Carrying eight passengers, the aircraft climbed to approximately 19,000 feet while traversing one of the most formidable mountain barriers on earth.

For a moment, it appeared Montgomery’s vision might succeed. American International Airways and NYRBA were working closely together. Earlier that year, in May, Montgomery had joined NYRBA’s board of directors and was appointed its vice president. O’Neill became a director of AIA. Together they seemed poised to create a genuine alternative to Pan American Airways.

Mounting rivalries

Yet beneath the surface, trouble was brewing. Relations between Montgomery and O’Neill had become strained. In his memoir A Dream of Eagles, O’Neill recalled arriving triumphantly in Buenos Aires aboard his flagship Sikorsky Washington on July 13, 1929, completing inauguration of the New York-to-Buenos Aires route. The achievement generated extensive publicity.

According to O’Neill, he was caught by surprise when Montgomery announced from Santiago only days later that the Southern Star would attempt an Andes crossing. O’Neill viewed the effort as an attempt to “jump on the publicity bandwagon” and dismissed it as a bid to become “the tenth airplane ever to fly across the mighty Andes.” His irritation was evident even years later. In recounting the episode in his book, he referred to Montgomery’s aircraft not by its proper name, but as the “Sikorsky bomber Southern Cross.“

Personal rivalries, however, were only part of the problem.

Tampa’s weakness exposed

The Pernambuco incident at Drew Field highlighted a more immediate concern. After the accident, Toomey publicly warned that Tampa’s airport required substantial improvements if large international aircraft were to operate there safely. Hidden hazards, poor drainage, and inadequate facilities posed serious risks. The warning carried considerable weight. Toomey was not merely a visitor; he was one of the pilots helping establish the very routes Tampa hoped to attract. NYRBA president Ralph O’Neill soon echoed those concerns.

Delays, debates and a lost opportunity

Meanwhile, Tampa struggled to move forward with plans for a modern combined seaplane and landplane base. Although voters approved a $750,000 bond issue, debates over locations, engineering contracts, and construction plans consumed valuable time.

Aviation executives watched with growing impatience. Returning from meetings with airline officials in New York, Chamber of Commerce aviation adviser Commander T. Blackburn delivered a blunt assessment.

“The Nyrba line was ready to talk business,” he reported. “They were just as anxious as ever to operate through this city, but they have got to start service and we are not ready to even tell them what we are going to do.”

By February 1930 the decision had effectively been made. NYRBA inaugurated its South American service with Miami—not Tampa—as its principal Florida base. Dinner Key offered facilities that were viable, while Tampa’s proposed international airport had yet to materialize. One city official lamented that despite months of discussion, “we stand today just exactly where we did when the airport bonds were voted.”

Pan Am strikes back

Tampa, however, was not the only victim of wishful thinking. Pan Am was moving aggressively to answer the challenge posed by NYRBA. On April 26, 1930, Charles Lindbergh departed Pan Am’s Miami airport aboard a Sikorsky S-38 amphibian, inaugurating a highly publicized mail flight toward South America. Lindbergh’s participation ended in Panama, but the mail continued southward aboard Pan American and Panagra aircraft through Peru, Chile, and Argentina. Within a week, the mail had reached Buenos Aires. The message was unmistakable. Pan American Airways could deliver regularly scheduled mail between New York and Buenos Aires as efficiently as NYRBA and its competitors.

Through its partnership with W. R. Grace & Company, Pan Am’s Panagra system already controlled an extensive west coast network. More importantly, Pan Am was obtaining the foreign mail rights, governmental support, and political backing that competitors desperately needed. O’Neill possessed aircraft. He possessed routes. He possessed concessions. But Pan Am possessed something even more valuable. Influence.

NYRBA forced to capitulate

By mid-1930 the outcome had become unavoidable. The Stock Market Crash of 1929 had additionally contributed to NYRBA’s difficulties and its investors were reluctant to put any more money into the airline. In July an agreement was reached for Pan American Airways to acquire the company. The merger was formally announced the following month.