Remembering Bluebird 50 years on

As the end of 1964 approached, one man waited for his chance to make history.

But day after day, the wait was in vain as winds blew Lake Dumbleyung, making it too dangerous for speed-ace Donald Campbell to open up the throttle of his jet-engine hydroplane Bluebird.

As The West Australian reported at the time, each day the routine was the same.

Mr Campbell’s team, many wearing blue shirts to match the futuristic speed boat, would check the course as he waited in his caravan, playing dominoes to pass the time.

Two-and-a-half weeks of effort had gone into trying to secure Mr Campbell what he wanted: an unprecedented record.

In July that year, he had broken the land speed record by blasting across South Australia’s Lake Eyre at 403.1mph (648km/h).

But he wanted to set land and water speed records in the same year.

Police divers cleared Lake Dumbleyung of debris, ducks were chased away, the lake’s bank was smoothed and a slipway for Bluebird was built.

But the water refused to lie still.

On December 29, becoming desperate, Mr Campbell’s team went in search of possible new sites at Lake Preston and Lake Clifton.

On December 31, Mr Campbell had all but given up on Lake Dumbleyung when the word came through the water was calm.

The final all-clear was signalled over the radio from his chief mechanic and water adviser Leo Villa: “I think it’s worth a try — let’s go, skipper.”

Mr Campbell and Bluebird grasped the moment, making two thrilling runs across the lake in opposite directions at an average speed of 276.33mph, (444.7km/h) eclipsing his record of 260.35mph, (418km/h) set on Lake Coniston, England, in 1959.

When the timekeepers told him over the radio he had set a new record, Mr Campbell, the archetypal English adventurer of his time, responded simply: “Much obliged, old boy.”

This year marks the 50th anniversary of his heroics, and Dumbleyung still remembers the time the eyes of the world turned its way.

Ian McCormack, licensee of the Dumbleyung Tavern, remembers being swept up in the moment as Bluebird was brought into town before the record attempt.

“I remember it vividly,” he said.

Mr McCormack said his family got to know Mr Campbell well as the days went on.

Campbell was treated with reverence because of his celebrity status in his homeland, but out at the lake he joined in with the informality of the setting and his hosts.

“He was a bit of a practical joker,” Mr McCormack said.

“We used to swim in the lake with him. You knew when to leave him alone, though.”

After the record run, Mr Campbell celebrated by sliding down a banister at the pub, then took Bluebird to Perth.

Entrusted with carrying the vehicle, local truckie Brian Bracknell said he had a police escort, and crowds in the towns along the way came out to take a look.

He said Mr Campbell was a humble man despite his achievements.

“He never made a big thing of it,” Mr Bracknell said.

In Perth, Mr Campbell put Bluebird back in the water for an exhibition run on the Swan River and thousands lined the banks as the boat flashed under the Narrows Bridge at 225km/h.

He then turned around and was unofficially timed at 65 seconds from the bridge to Royal Perth Yacht Club. The story ended in tragedy in 1967 when Mr Campbell was killed on Coniston Water, having crashed as he tried to set another record.

Dumbleyung is working on plans to mark the town’s moment of fame by installing a full-scale replica of the boat in the town and possibly an interpretive centre to tell the story.

Perth new media artist David Carson is working on a touring exhibition and hopes local people will contribute their stories of the time Mr Campbell put WA on the map.