Bundaberg – Australian Aeronautical Heritage

17/10/202504/03/2026

Hinkles hairoplain: An authenticity reassessment

Bert Hinkler’s airplane landed in Gympie in April 1921, SLQ Record number
99183693707602061.

Publicly funded museums rank as some of our most trusted social institutions. Recent studies highlight that this trust is “largely based on the perception that museums are ‘fact-based’ and present ‘real/original/authentic objects’.”¹ Museum visitors expect to encounter materially and factually authentic objects in museums. Unsurprisingly, researchers have also found that “most museum visitors assume they are viewing a materially authentic or original object [simply] because the object is in a museum.” ². But what if that isn’t the case? What if that object which thousands of pundits have travelled to see is actually a forgery, a replica, or something less than original? Will this somehow undermine the public’s unconditional trust, or diminish the museum’s social license? Will this cause lasting reputational damage and declining visitation or, will the consequences be negligible?

Mindful of these possibilities, history museums have been especially coy about addressing authenticity issues. Accessing collection information in history museums is notoriously difficult and, unlike their scientific colleagues, much of the research undertaken by history curators remains either inaccessible, unpublished, or shielded from independent external review. Three years ago however the Queensland Museum, in a move that was both surprising and unprecedented, bravely questioned the authenticity of its unique 1920 Avro Baby biplane, originally owned by Queenslander Bert Hinkler.³ The Museum’s Assistant Collections Manager concluded then that aside from the fabric covering and possibly the wheels, “everything else is, as far as we can tell, as Bert left it.”⁴

This independent reassessment challenges those 2022 findings by suggesting, instead, that much of what remains of Hinkler’s Avro 534 either is, or appears to be, unoriginal. This derives from a detailed examination of the dismantled aircraft undertaken, for official valuation purposes, on 18 May 2012. The imagery and field notes taken on that occasion were subsequently analysed in conjunction with period imagery, together with archival documentary and grey literature sources. This analysis was conducted however without reference to the Civil Aviation Department file, Registration & Airworthiness – Avro Baby No1, held at the Melbourne repository of the National Archive.⁵ Modifications, repairs and accident details are typically recorded in such files.

Although authenticity is a culturally contingent term it is used interchangeably here, with original, to describe the material qualities of an object, “which should [then] be scientifically or historically verifiable.”⁶ What follows are the summarized results of this informal reappraisal which are shared not as criticism – the museum having to work with what it inherited:

Engine

There is compelling documentary evidence to show that the aircraft’s original engine was removed and sold, prior to 1945, to a Mr. A. Natoli of Sydney. This claim was subsequently and independently corroborated by Bert Hinkler’s brother, George Hinkler.⁷ Further evidence supporting this last explanation has been found recently in the Australian Archives. The Civil Aviation Board had advised the aircraft’s owner in October 1936 that it was not prepared to renew the Baby’s Certificate of Registration.⁸ This followed the Board’s March 1933 ruling that all Australian registered aircraft engines were thereafter required to have dual ignition. Since the Avro’s Green engine was fitted with a single ignition system it was essentially worthless, at least from an aviation standpoint.

Carburettor

The engine is currently fitted with a Zenith 36ABC carburettor, one online source claiming that these were fitted to the Green Type 64 engine.⁹

Propeller

This is unlikely to be the original, the rudder and propeller having both been damaged when the aircraft overturned, north of Newcastle, on 21 April 1921.¹⁰ Markings impressed into the propeller blades confirm, nonetheless, that it does date from the early 1920s and would have been an appropriate match for Hinkler’s Green C-4 engine. It is notable that the existing blade painting is also inconsistent with that shown in historical images (where the blade painting extends almost to the propellor hub). This could indicate that the propeller was stripped and inaccurately repainted during restoration, or earlier repair. Alternatively, the existing propellor could be a replacement, and not the one used by Hinkler in 1921.

Spinner

Historical imagery shows the aircraft fitted in 1921 with a bare metal propeller spinner. This was missing when title transferred to the Queensland Museum in 1970.

Magneto

The Museum’s aircraft is fitted with a BTH GA4-K3 magneto (No. 8D1005117). Since these were first introduced in the mid-1930s it cannot be an unoriginal installation. Its presence lends some further to the published evidence indicating that the engine is also unoriginal.

Pitot tube

Historical imagery shows the aircraft fitted with a single pitot tube. Presently however the Avro is fitted with an unoriginal twin-tube pitot.

Fasteners

Modern fasteners have been used extensively, in lieu of originals or period-appropriate equivalents. A variety of shapes and sizes can be found, including American nyloc nuts, cadmium plated engine mount bolts and worm-drive radiator hose clamps, castellated nuts and cotter pins, lock wiring and turnbuckles. It is presumed that these were fitted during the 1972 restoration as replacement for originals that were either missing, damaged, or degraded.

Fabrics

None of the aircraft’s fabric coverings are original. Modern fabrics have been used extensively and, here again, it is presumed that these were fitted during the 1972 restoration as substitutes for original fabrics that were either missing, damaged, or degraded. Original fabric specifications were not recorded prior to the restoration, and nor were any original samples retained, this approach being wholly consistent with the museum’s prevailing ethos which prioritized cosmetic appearance, and completeness, ahead of originality. Modern fabrics appear as fuselage and wing coverings, as felt rubbing strips (between the engine cowling and radiator), as bungee chords (undercarriage), and as synthetic cockpit coaming and lacings. Modern phenolic sheet can also be found within the engine bay.

Hoses

Modern radiator hosing, with knitted synthetic reinforcing has been used to connect the engine to both the radiator and oil tank (using modern worm-drive fasteners).

Paint

The Queensland Museum has nothing in its collection or files to indicate that the aircraft’s paint colours were informed either by documentary research or sample analysis. Indeed, there is nothing in the museum’s correspondence or object files suggesting any guidance or oversight throughout the restoration, completed by Air Charter Pty. Ltd at a cost of $2,200.¹¹ The hue, value and intensity of the existing (semi-gloss) white finish must, therefore, be regarded with suspicion, as should its method and extent of application (via spray gun), and chemical composition. It is clear from historical imagery that the aircraft’s cowlings were unpainted while the aircraft was being flown by Hinkler in Australia. These however were also painted white during the 1972 restoration.

Windshield

The existing windshield is unoriginal, its appearance altogether unlike the frameless, low-profile windshield originally fitted to Hinkler’s aircraft.

Instrumentation

None of the instruments currently installed are original, these appearing to all be of Second World War (or later) origin. Also missing is the large magnetic compass, one of the plane’s most prominent features – visible in most period photographs. There is no evidence either that the instrument panel was originally painted black, as is presently the case. Remnant screw holes and unfilled instrument apertures suggest however that the panel does pre-date the 1972 restoration.

Pilot’s seat

Further investigation is needed to determine if the pilot’s seat is original. Both wood and metal seats can be found on contemporaneous Avro designs such as the Avro 504. While the Shuttleworth’s modified Avro 504, for example, is fitted with an aluminium seat, the Australian War Memorial’s unmodified 504 has wooden seats.

Elevator control horns

Historical imagery confirms that the existing elevator control horns, both prominent fuselage features, are unoriginal, as are the connecting turnbuckles.

Undercarriage

The wheels and tyres are certainly unoriginal, both being wider than those photographed in 1921. The existing wheels also appear to be of smaller diameter than the originals. In 1921 fabric spoke covers were fitted to each wheel, on both the inside and outside. The latter are no longer fitted, and no valve access apertures have been included in those that remain.

The loss of original materials and fittings is hardly surprising, given the aircraft’s age, functional redesigns, and ownership changes. In all it has had five Australian owners; was repaired at least four times; had its fabric replaced at least twice; was converted from landplane to seaplane, then back to landplane again; was converted from a single seat to a tandem two-seat aircraft, then reconverted back to single seat; was damaged after overturning on a beach in 1921; and then completely restored at least twice.¹² While there can be no doubting its Avro 534 origins, it is misleading to claim or imply t̶hat this is an original aircraft. It would be more accurate – and honest – to say that this exhibit had been rebuilt using structural elements from Bert Hinkler’s original Avro Baby.

After you strip away those elements that are definitely and possibly unoriginal, such as the fabric, the wheels, the instruments, the engine, the seat, the windshield, the propeller, the coaming, and the myriad fasteners and hoses, all that remains is the internal wooden structure, the undercarriage tubing, the radiator, the fuel and oil tanks, and the cowling. Some wood in the upper fuselage of course will have also been replaced when the plane was converted from single to dual seats, then back to single seat configuration.¹³ Nor is there much comfort to be had from putting aside the question of originality, and focusing only the aircraft’s cosmetic appearance. Almost every marking on the post-restoration aircraft is inaccurate in terms of its size, location, form or style.

Authenticity is important not only because of its influence on visitor perceptions. It also has direct bearing on the notion of significance used by heritage professionals to evaluate acquisition, disposal, storage, conservation, exhibition, research, insurance and funding priorities. If heritage significance was a function of an artefact’s weight only then the museum could still claim, with some authority, to possess the substantial remains of Hinkler’s Avro Baby aircraft. Significance assessment however utilizes a more complex equation that accounts for an object’s combined cultural, historical, technological, aesthetic, and spiritual values.

Understandably, museums are reluctant to expend resources when any, some, or all of these values are either diminished, or missing altogether. This partly explains why the Avro has remained in storage, and on loan for past decades. The Queensland Museum acquired the Avro Baby on the strength of its questionable technological and historical significances which were both heavily compromised long before the aircraft transferred to Brisbane, being further eroded during the 1972 restoration.¹⁴ While the prospect of deaccessioning appears unlikely, these latest findings do provide justification for maintaining the existing out-of-sight out-of-mind course — one that has already spared the museum considerable expense and effort.

Three years ago the Queensland Museum determined that the aircraft was “much as he [Hinkler] left it.” That much of what is left, isn’t “it,” is simply inconvenient.

21/07/202222/07/2022

“The best crash I ever had”

Flying on a cloudless night, with the landscape illuminated by an almost full moon, the crew of Avro Anson W1655 might well have felt some serenity. At least, until both engines suddenly stopped. It was 8.50 p.m. on a Monday, 30^th March 1942.

The Anson was written off following its crash landing in Joseph Toft’s paddock. A hand-written inscription on the reverse side of this image – presumably written by Lasscock reads “The best crash I ever had.” (Lyn Mergard)

Flying the Anson was twenty-one year old Robert Bennett Lasscock of Perth (West Australia). Formerly a bank officer, he had joined the RAAF exactly one year earlier. Posted from Sydney to No.8 Service Flying Training School at Bundaberg in south-east Queensland, Lasscock was completing a circuit of the aerodrome at the time – after returning from a night training flight. Although he had rehearsed many times for such a predicament, no amount of training could have replicated the fear and apprehension he must have surely felt then.

Pilot Robert Bennett Lasscock of Perth suffered a second forced (daylight) landing in late April 1943, when the Anson he was flying also suffered an “alleged engine failure” 10 miles north-west of Bundaberg (NAA (Canberra): A9845, 63, ID 7127535).

Having only arrived in Bundaberg five days earlier, he would have been aware at least that the sugar cane fields surrounding the aerodrome were relatively flat – increasing his chances of surviving the inevitable crash landing.¹

Meanwhile, sugar cane farmer Colin Toft had been lying in bed at Avoca, two-and-a-half miles west of Bundaberg, when he noticed two planes flying some distance from the house, one of which “suddenly appeared to lose altitude” crashing nearby in his father’s paddock.² As Colin later recounted in his Police Statement, the plane’s engines “did not appear to be functioning properly.” He immediately raced by car for the ambulance and the police.

The dismantled Anson leaving Joseph Toft’s paddock at Avoca, west of Bundaberg. The Toft family played a lead role after the war in helping to mechanize the sugar cane industry. By the early 1970s, Bundaberg’s Toft Bros. held a large share of the world market in mechanized cane machinery. Subsequently renamed Austoft, their company continued to play a major role in the development of technology in the Australian sugar cane industry. (Lyn Mergard).

In a separate police statement, Colin’s father Joseph also reported having seen “the plane flying low and …heading in the direction of his house” when it “suddenly swerved and struck the ground.” While awaiting the ambulance’s arrival one of the plane’s crew had remarked to Joseph that “one of the controls [had] failed but we did the best we could.”³

Half an hour after the crash, Sub-Inspector James Osborne at the local Police Station answered a call from Bundaberg resident Frank Christensen, informing him that an Air Force aeroplane had just crashed in Toft’s paddock at Avoca—about three miles west of Bundaberg. Colin Toft also arrived at the same time, adding that he had already notified the Bundaberg Ambulance Brigade while on his way to the Police Station.

At twenty-three, Eric Baldock was the oldest of the three on board the Avoca Anson. An “unauthorised passenger” at the time of the crash, he appears to have escaped any disciplinary action (NAA: (Canberra): A9301, 43811, ID 4595541).

By the time the party of four policemen reached the crash scene, 100 yards from the Toft’s residence, the three crew were already being treated by ambulance personnel. All onboard the plane (viz. pilot, co-pilot and passenger) survived the crash, sustaining shock and laceration injuries.

In the Preliminary Report prepared the following day Lasscock (pilot) was charged with “Carelessness and disobedience of orders,” due to his “failure to change to full inner tanks when outer tanks became exhausted.”⁴ Also injured was the co-pilot nineteen year old LAC Frank Alexander (Alec) Badgery (412565), formerly a station manager from Cumnock in New South Wales.⁵ The Flying School’s daily log however, which would have been written up around the same time, makes no such adverse findings against the pilot, noting only that “the pilot lost control.”⁶ What this log does reveal however, is that Lasscock was carrying an “unauthorised” passenger at the time of the accident. Twenty-three year-old AC1 Eric Keith Baldock (43811), a Brisbane shoemaker, had discharged from the Army in mid-October 1941 before re-enlisting with the Air Force the following day. Although forbidden by Air Force regulations it was commonplace then, especially on training bases, for crews to occasionally risk the carriage non-flying personnel. Doing so at night, further diminished the chances of being caught out. There is nothing in Baldock’s Conduct Record to indicate however that he, or the pilot (Lasscock) were ever disciplined following this incident.⁷

Co-pilot Alec Badgery went on to served with a Canadian bomber squadron, being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross in September 1944 (NAA (Canberra): A9300, Badgery F A, ID 5380128).

This in fact was the first of several lucky escapes for Lasscock who, a year later, survived another forced (daylight) landing when in late April 1943 the Anson he was flying also suffered an “alleged engine failure,” 10 miles north-west of Bundaberg.⁸ Lasscock later served operationally with 31 Squadron based at Morotai, Indonesia, and it was while he was taxying a Beaufighter (A19-181) there in late August 1944 that his brakes failed, causing the aircraft to collide with a pole and sustain major damage.⁹

Alec Badgery’s flying career, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more different. He served operationally in Europe, flying Halifax bombers for much of 1944 with the Canadian Air Force’s No, 431 Squadron. In September 1944 he was awarded a Distinguished Flying Cross, the citation mentioning that he’d flown numerous sorties to Berlin and the Ruhr, while displaying “coolness, courage and determination.”¹⁰ Having survived their crash landing at Avoca, all three on board the Anson that night went on to survive the war.

Thanks to Lyn Mergard who generously shared her recollections and photographs, first published to the Facebook Group, Bundaberg: Remember When, on 28 January 2022: 10.22.

The Toft farm was at Avoca Road, near the end of what is now Aloha Drive. It backed onto the Burnett River. The Avoca Garden Centre at 171 Avoca Road is part of the original Toft property (the office) and the family home was moved further along Avoca Road towards town in the 1960’s (Lyn Mergard).

23/10/202120/12/2021

9 September 1942

Bundaberg in south-eastern Queensland was a center for flying training during the Second World War. As a consequence, the surrounding Burnett Region is peppered with wartime crash sites.

Drury’s Anson being dismantled in Lutz’s cane field. Official records indicate it was never repaired, being struck off charge the following year. Military activities at that time were commonly photographed by civilian and military personnel (Bundaberg Library bun06577, Clifford Potter Collection).

A brick maker prior to enlisting, Flight Sergeant Thomas Peel Drury was one of many pilots who came to grief while undergoing advanced training at the RAAF’s No.8 Secondary Flying Training School (SFTS) in Bundaberg. Continue reading “9 September 1942”

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Flying on a cloudless night, with the landscape illuminated by an almost full moon, the crew of Avro Anson W1655 might well have felt some serenity. At least, until both engines suddenly stopped. It was 8.50 p.m. on a Monday, 30th March 1942.

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Flying on a cloudless night, with the landscape illuminated by an almost full moon, the crew of Avro Anson W1655 might well have felt some serenity. At least, until both engines suddenly stopped. It was 8.50 p.m. on a Monday, 30^th March 1942.