Alcock and Brown, the Vickers Vimy, and the First Nonstop Flight Across the Atlantic in Nineteen Nineteen
How John Alcock and Arthur Brown flew a converted Vickers Vimy bomber across the Atlantic nonstop in 1919, eight years before Lindbergh.
The first nonstop flight across the Atlantic Ocean was made on June 14–15, 1919, by British aviators John Alcock and Arthur Whitten Brown in a converted Vickers Vimy bomber. They flew from Newfoundland to Ireland in 16 hours and 27 minutes, covering roughly 1,900 miles of open ocean, eight years before Charles Lindbergh’s famous solo flight to Paris in 1927.
Who Were Alcock and Brown?
John Alcock was the pilot: a big, cheerful man from Manchester who had flown bombers over the eastern Mediterranean during the First World War. He was shot down over Turkey and spent the rest of the war in a prisoner camp, where he began dreaming of flying the Atlantic. He came home with that ambition fixed firmly in his mind.
Arthur Whitten Brown was the navigator: a quieter, more studious engineer born in Glasgow to American parents. He had been shot down over France and injured his leg so badly that he walked with a cane for the rest of his life. Unable to fly fighters, he had made himself an expert in the new science of aerial navigation - finding a course across trackless distances using a compass, a watch, the sun, and the stars.
The two men had never met before the Vickers company paired them for the attempt.
Why Did They Fly the Atlantic in 1919?
The airplane was barely fifteen years old in 1919, and the Great War had pushed aviation forward at breakneck speed. Engines that were little more than toys in 1914 were reliable workhorses by 1918.
To spur the effort, newspaper baron Lord Northcliffe of the Daily Mail offered a prize of £10,000 - a fortune at the time - for the first team to fly nonstop across the Atlantic from North America to the British Isles in under 72 consecutive hours. No landing on the water, no refueling from ships. The crossing had to be flown straight through in a single airplane.
Several teams gathered around Saint John’s, Newfoundland, the closest jumping-off point in North America, scratching out crude runways and waiting on the weather.
What Was the Vickers Vimy?
The Vickers Vimy was a twin-engine biplane bomber designed at the very end of the war to reach Berlin. The war ended before it saw combat, leaving Vickers with a big, strong, long-legged aircraft and no mission for it.
Engineers stripped out the bomb racks and guns and packed the airframe with fuel tanks, giving the Vimy the capacity to carry 865 gallons of gasoline - enough, they hoped, to stay airborne for a full day. It was powered by two Rolls-Royce Eagle engines, each a twelve-cylinder unit producing about 360 horsepower.
Crucially, the crew flew in an open cockpit, sitting side by side behind a small windscreen with almost nothing between them and the North Atlantic. There was no heater and no enclosed cabin. Their only warmth came from the engines and from electrically heated flying suits - which ran off the same wind-driven generator that failed early in the flight.
The Flight: 16 Hours Over the Ocean
Alcock and Brown loaded the fuel-heavy Vimy and took off on June 14, 1919. The aircraft was so overloaded that Alcock barely dragged it off the rough, sloping field, clearing the trees and stone walls at the far end by just a few feet. Then they turned east over the water, facing roughly 1,900 miles of gray ocean with Ireland their only target.
The trouble began almost immediately. The wind-driven generator failed, taking the wireless radio with it. From that point on, no one on Earth knew where they were.
Then the fog closed in. Brown needed the sun and stars to navigate with his sextant, but the thick cloud left him flying blind - dead reckoning, guessing at the wind, and holding a heading on faith.
The Spin Toward the Sea
During the night the Vimy entered a thick cloud with no visible horizon. With no artificial horizon instrument to rely on, Alcock lost control. The airplane stalled and fell into a spiral dive, spinning down through the dark toward the ocean.
They dropped roughly 4,000 feet before breaking out of the cloud - and when they did, Alcock saw the water standing sideways in his windscreen. The Vimy had rolled onto its side, the whitecaps reportedly within 100 feet or less, close enough that some accounts say the crew could hear the waves over the engines. Alcock leveled the wings just above the surface and climbed back into the same clouds that had nearly killed them.
Fighting the Ice
Higher up, they found sleet and snow. Freezing rain built up on the wings, struts, and engines, packing over a fuel gauge and the air intakes. According to a well-known legend, Brown climbed out onto the wing repeatedly - on his bad leg - to chip ice off the engine housings while Alcock held the aircraft steady. Historians debate the details, but there is no doubt the two men battled ice through the night in an open cockpit over the middle of the Atlantic.
How Did Brown Find Ireland Without a Radio?
As the sun rose on June 15, 1919, the clouds thinned and Brown spotted two small islands in the sea - Eeshal and Turbot, off the coast of Ireland - almost exactly where his navigation said land should be. Using only a compass, a watch, a sextant, and his own mathematics, he had threaded the needle across 1,900 miles of ocean and hit his target.
They crossed the Irish coast near the town of Clifden and spotted what looked like a smooth green field. It was Derrygimla Bog - a soft peat marsh that looked solid from the air. When the wheels touched, they dug in and the Vimy pitched onto its nose in the mud. Both men were shaken and bruised but not seriously hurt.
The total flight time was 16 hours and 27 minutes, wheels up to wheels down. They were the first human beings ever to cross the Atlantic in one continuous flight.
What Happened Afterward?
The world went wild. Alcock and Brown collected Lord Northcliffe’s £10,000 prize, and within days King George V knighted them both. They became Sir John Alcock and Sir Arthur Whitten Brown.
The story carries a bittersweet ending. Just six months later, in December 1919, Alcock crashed in fog while flying a new Vickers amphibian to an airshow in France. He died at the age of 27. Brown, shaken by the loss of his partner, largely gave up flying and returned to engineering. He later lost his own son, a pilot, in the Second World War, and died in 1948.
The airplane itself survived. Pulled from the Irish bog and restored, the Vickers Vimy hangs today in the Science Museum in London, its two open cockpits still visible to anyone who looks up.
Why the Flight Still Matters
Charles Lindbergh rightly earned his fame for a solo crossing to Paris - but he flew in 1927. Alcock and Brown were first, in 1919, in a converted bomber with a radio that quit, a heater that quit, and an ocean that nearly claimed them at the halfway point.
They proved the crossing was possible and connected the Old World to the New through the air. Every transatlantic airliner flying today follows a trail that two half-frozen men in an open biplane blazed more than a century ago.
Key Takeaways
- Alcock and Brown made the first nonstop transatlantic flight on June 14–15, 1919, flying a converted Vickers Vimy from Newfoundland to Ireland.
- The crossing took 16 hours and 27 minutes and covered roughly 1,900 miles of open ocean.
- They flew in an open cockpit with no working radio and no heat, surviving fog, a near-fatal spin to within 100 feet of the sea, and heavy icing.
- They won the £10,000 Daily Mail prize and were knighted by King George V.
- Their flight came eight years before Lindbergh’s 1927 solo crossing to Paris, proving that transatlantic air travel was possible.
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