When the photographers want their shot, Donald Campbell is immediately ready - no matter how tense the situation or how short the time. Whether in the boat shed, on the jetty in front or in the cockpit. Self-assured, confident and with a smile that is free of arrogance, he poses in his crumpled overall, one hand casually in his trouser pocket. The team logo is embroidered on the left breast pocket: crossed British flags, with the namesake in between: a small bird - the bluebird.
There is the record-breaking pilot, known to his fellow travellers only as the "skipper". He achieves great things with few resources. Because he believes in it, is tenacious, can improvise and never loses his sense of humour."
Donald Campbell is an adventurer who has repeatedly had to overcome setbacks in his twenty-year career: a serious crash with the record-breaking "Bluebird CN7" racing car, for example, which he survived by a hair's breadth at over 500 km/h. Or his two failed marriages. Or his two failed marriages. Last but not least, the fact that speed records at the end of the 1960s no longer hold the fascination they did a decade earlier. The race to the moon is in full swing; moving images are even being broadcast from space.
At this point, Donald Campbell had actually achieved everything: he was the first (and still the only) person to set records on land and water within a year. And he has also long since emerged from the long shadow of his legendary father.
Although it is never easy to follow a legend - and Sir Malcolm Campbell belonged in this category. Coming from an old aristocratic background, he came into enough money as a broker to be able to fulfil his passion for high speeds without financial constraints - unlike his son later on. His aristocratic demeanour made him the perfect gentleman racer In the 1930s, his successes made him the hero of his British homeland: he had achieved a total of thirteen world speed records by 1939. King George V made him a Knight of the Realm for his achievements.
If it had been up to his strict will, the young Donald Campbell, who was born in 1921, would never have followed in his father's footsteps: Before his death in 1948, Sir Malcolm decreed that his racing car "Blue Bird", in which he had set the world land speed record nine times, his racing boat "Blue Bird K4" and, moreover, his entire estate should not be bequeathed to his son, but auctioned off in favour of his grandchildren. However, he had probably not reckoned on Donald thwarting this plan: He simply bought the two vehicles from the estate.
Even if Donald Campbell perhaps never intended to climb into the cockpit himself until this moment, his fate will be decided within a few weeks."
By chance, he learns that the American industrial magnate Henry Kaiser is having a boat built to challenge his father's existing world record. In his book, Campbell expert Neil Sheppard describes how personally the son - to his own surprise - takes the challenge: An American wants to snatch the record? "To hell with him!"
The decision has been made: With the help of Leo Villa, who had already played a big part in his father's triumphs as chief mechanic, "Blue Bird K4" is brought out of storage and painstakingly made ready to race again. The title must remain in the family and in Great Britain - with a new record of its own. No time is wasted: the coming summer should bring success, and the choice of race track falls on Coniston Water, a lake in the English Lake District. Sir Malcolm Campbell had set the record of 228.1 km/h at the same location in 1939, which now had to be beaten. The inexperienced Donald Campbell approached his first runs with a good dose of recklessness and exuberance, but a near-accident suddenly made him realise the consequences of even the smallest mistakes beyond 200 kilometres per hour. He becomes more cautious; safety becomes more important.
An official record attempt involves two flying runs, which must be completed within one hour over a precisely defined measuring distance of one kilometre. The average speed of the two runs is then used to determine the average overall speed. Donald Campbell whips "K4" over the distance with a roaring Rolls-Royce. He hits the throttle so hard that he ruins the gearbox of the aged boat in the last run. But the sacrifice seems to have paid off: He has beaten his father's record! But the jubilation doesn't last long - the timekeepers have miscalculated. In fact, five kilometres per hour are missing from the record.
The disappointment is all the greater as the damage initially makes further attempts impossible. To make matters worse, the agencies then reported in June 1950 that another American had beaten him to it: with his hydroplane "Slo-Mo-Shun IV", Stanley Sayers set a record of 258 km/h on Lake Washington in the north-west of the USA.
The Campbells are thus dethroned, but Donald does not give up: He has "K4" rebuilt and now actually achieves speeds in excess of 270 km/h during tests. But before an official record run can be made, bad luck strikes again: due to material fatigue, the gearbox tears out of its mount in the fuselage at full speed and springs a large leak. The veteran had to be written off as a wreck.
Although the American Sayers improves his own record once again to 287.3 km/h, Donald Campbell already realises that the piston engine has reached its performance limit. In the air, the jet age has long since begun and the days of the propeller seem to be numbered; his father had already experimented with the then still young technology shortly after the Second World War, albeit without success. In the meantime, however, the engines have become much more powerful, robust and reliable. Campbell realises that the only way to set a new record that will stand the test of time is to build a new boat that is tailored from bow to stern for the installation of a steel engine: The heart of a modern fighter aircraft is to beat in the next "Bluebird"!
Donald Campbell now puts all his eggs in one basket: he sells his small engineering company and uses the proceeds to commission "Bluebird K7" - the logical realisation of his ideas. The cigar-shaped all-metal fuselage of the hydroplane is little more than a streamlined outer shell for the turbojet inside - a Beryl engine from Metropolitan Vickers with a thrust output of 14.5 kilonewtons. In front of it is the cockpit, which can be closed with a Plexiglas canopy. Two floats on steel outriggers on either side of the foredeck provide stabilisation.
Campbell is right: the "K7" concept is revolutionising the record hunt on the water. His "blue wonder" leaves the old competition standing in the truest sense of the word. The Briton is now his own benchmark in terms of measured kilometres. His very first record broke the 300 km/h barrier, and seemingly with ease: he reached exactly 325.6 kilometres per hour on 23 July 1955 on Ullswater, also in the Lake District.
Whereas he previously had to take out a mortgage on his house, sponsors are now queuing up. He can taste the success. But the engine's potential was far from exhausted: he improved his own record six times, four times on Coniston Water. The last triumph is celebrated on New Year's Eve 1964 on Lake Dumbleyung in Australia: at 444.7 km/h.
It was to be the year of his greatest success, the zenith of Donald Campbell's popularity and fame. Just six months earlier, he had also set the land speed record of 648.73 km/h on the salt flats of Lake Eyre, also "Down Under", in his gas turbine-powered record-breaking car "Bluebird CN7". What remains now? Campbell believes his water world record is safe, at least for the foreseeable future. But things look different on land, where he also dreams of the next big leap - through the sound barrier. To achieve this, Campbell designs a rocket car with tyre-less aluminium wheels and a double tail unit: "Bluebird Mach 1.1". Target speed: 1350 km/h ...
But times have changed. The economy is in crisis. Campbell suddenly finds himself unable to find sponsors for the ambitious project that is supposed to round off his career. If he can't attract attention to "Bluebird Mach 1.1" with pleading letters and drawings of the rocket car, then there has to be another way - with another bang on the water.
"Bluebird K7" has to do it again: Campbell wants to reach more than 300 miles per hour - almost 500 km/h. He hopes that this will generate the necessary headlines to attract sponsors for his sound barrier project. The plan has just one catch: the power of the Beryl jet engine is not sufficient for the new record. A replacement is needed, fast. The Ministry of Aviation helps and sells the team two Orpheus engines from Bristol-Siddeley - the second one even comes with a complete aircraft, a Folland Gnat. The Orpheus is not only lighter, but also has more thrust than its predecessor.
At the beginning of November 1966, the "skipper", chief mechanic Leo Villa and the rest of the crew arrive back in Coniston - the scene of so many "Bluebird" records. "K7", now equipped with the Gnat's distinctive fin to improve course stability, moves back into an improvised boat shed with a slipway on the lakeshore. A lot has to be "organised", even for the paraffin there are no sponsors. Campbell must feel like he is at the beginning of his career.
Hardly anything goes as planned: It rains and rains; the lake rises so high that it almost washes into the boat shed. The Orpheus is also causing problems. It is so strong that it tears out rivets in its own air intake with its suction and sucks them in - total loss!
The reserve engine is installed and the critical parts of the fuselage are reinforced. Now the thrust is right, but the trim leaves a lot to be desired - "K7" simply won't glide. More ballast in the rear provides the solution. In the meantime, however, so many changes have been made to the weight distribution of the boat that hardly anyone can say anything about its safety at the targeted speeds.
Then the new year arrives, and the winter morning of 4 January 1967 dawns cold and windless. Coniston Water lies at the bottom of the valley like a glass mirror, reflecting the bare flanks of the mountains. Ideal conditions, the day of the record attempt has come after all! Everything is in position, including the timekeepers and the television cameras!
At 8.48am Campbell sets off from the southern end of the lake for his second run. 297 miles were measured on the first, so the record is within reach. Full throttle again! Bluebird" pulls its spray northwards in a white half-arc. The boat suddenly begins to dance nervously over the transverse axis, the starboard skid comes free, hits hard, comes free again - and then disaster strikes: As if in slow motion, the blue bow lifts and detaches itself from the water, seemingly weightlessly. The "skipper's" parting words crackle on the radio: I'm going - "I'm going."
"Bluebird K7" describes a somersault backwards through the air and hits the lake in a bell of spray at well over 300 kilometres per hour. Shocked silence reigns on the shore. A lifeboat chases out, but the shattered wreck has already sunk into the dark depths of Coniston Water. And the record hunter with it.
The night before, Donald Campbell had looked up at the clearing sky and said to a reporter that tomorrow could well be the day they were all waiting for. After a brief hesitation, he had added: "I just hope it's not my last."
Donald Campbell's hydroplane "Bluebird K7" was an all-metal "three-pointer" powered by a jet engine. This means that the boat rose so far out of the water during the planing phase that it was only in contact with its surface at three points - in this case, these were the two fins at the aft end of the runners, which formed the underside of the two floats on the port and starboard sides.
The third point was the single fin below the boat's transom. When the boat was in the planing phase, it experienced aerodynamic lift. A level trim and smooth water should prevent it from exceeding its critical angle of attack and taking off, as happened in the case of "K7" when Donald Campbell lost control.
The technical data: Length: 8.05 m, width (fuselage): 1.59 m, width (overall): 3.20 m, height: 2.65 m, empty weight: 1630 kg, total weight (with engine): 2640 kg, thrust (maximum): 23.5 kN, fuel endurance (at full throttle): 3:40 min
The book "Donald Campbell: Bluebird and the Final Record Attempt" by Neil Sheppard emphasises the engine as one of the causal factors: its thrust was actually also supposed to push the bow downwards, but for unclear reasons it switched off in the critical phase of the run. Another reason for the accident may also have been that the relatively old boat was structurally and aerodynamically overstretched at the extremely high speed.
Since this spring, after the hull was lifted and completely restored in 2001, "K7" has been in the Ruskin Museum in Coniston. Donald Campbell's mortal remains were also recovered from his boat in 2001 and buried in the cemetery in Coniston.
The famous London ship classification society Lloyd's had its own class for boats that were on the hunt for records: the unlimited class. The class was open or "unlimited", symbolised by the mathematical infinity sign; in other words, there were no regulations on boat size, material or propulsion. There were only eight "K-boats" in total. "Bluebird K7" was the seventh of these.

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