During the First World War, Newhaven became one of the major supply ports to the Western Front. Its ships transported stores and munitions across the Channel to France, travelling in convoy and escorted by destroyers for protection. When Germany declared unrestricted submarine warfare at the beginning of 1917, Newhaven Seaplane station was opened to help protect shipping. Located on the beach, east of Tide Mills, the station occupied five acres with another 6 acres, used for drilling. Added to this were some hired buildings at Tide Mills.
Launching a seaplane, took a lot of effort, from a great number of men.
First the seaplane had to be brought from its shed, its wings unfolded and the wires and bolts made secure. This was done by the riggers, under the ‘watchful eye’ of the chief mechanic.
To get the plane into the water, it had to be placed on a two wheeled trolley by the handling crew.

Photo: Handling crew at Newhaven Seaplane Station. Copyright Newhaven Historical Society.
Being slightly tail heavy, the tail was then rested on a trestle so that the bombs and other equipment could be loaded, including a Lewis machine gun, mounted in the rear cockpit, and a wireless radio which was placed under the observer’s seat.
The armourer and his men loaded the bombs onto a rack on the underside of the fuselage.
The maximum load was one 112lb bomb and two 50lb bombs. However, the actual load carried depended on the condition of the seaplane. The seaplane’s wings were made of canvas stretched over wooden frames, so if it was new or it had recently been re-rigged it might just take a full load. However, as the fabric began to slacken the load would have to be lightened.
Pilot, 2nd Lieutenant, Ackery remembers how first the bombs would be released, starting with the smaller ones, until even the machine gun, for protection against ‘non-existent’ enemy aircraft, was ditched and they flew with just a revolver.
Luckily, U-boat crews couldn’t distinguish whether or not the seaplane was armed.
The armourer & observer would then check the bomb sights and the bomb dropping gear.
More equipment was added including a very light pistol and flares for signalling; ammunitions pans for the Lewis Gun; a camera and slides; a revolver; a signalling lamp; lifebelts; emergency rations and finally, a box containing two pigeons. Because the radio, wasn’t always reliable, the pigeons provided a back-up.
The observer carried a small notepad, provided by the pigeon service, on which they wrote their messages, which would be placed in a small aluminium tube and attached to the bird’s leg.
Observer, Lieutenant Press explained that the birds were often sleepy, having been settled in their box for three or four hours and ‘took a poor view to flying,’ often settling on the plane’s wing tip, well out of reach. Press would then throw Lewis machine gun rounds at the bird to encourage it to fly off being careful not to hit the bird that might save them!
There was a knack to releasing the pigeon – to prevent it from hitting the tailplane, Ackery explains how ‘we covered the birds wings with our hands and flung them hard downwards and forwards’.
Once all the paraphernalia had been loaded, (which for observer Lieutenant Dangerfield included his fishing rod to while away the hours if they had a forced landing) the crew made ready to move the plane. They lifted the tail from the trestle and pushed the plane, on its trolley, to the top of the slipway. From here a winch was attached and the plane lowered down the slipway until it was a few feet away from the water’s edge.
Next, the armourer took out the bombs’ safety pins and passed them to the observer. This would be used as evidence that the correct procedure had taken place, should the bombs fail to explode.
Finally, the pilot would turn the engine over to warm it up. When ready, he indicated to the ground crew to congregate around the tail, whilst the engine was opened up to full power.
Ackery describes how the poor ground crew ‘grew to twice their normal size as the slipstream ballooned their overalls and coats’.
The seaplane was then winched down into the water until the main floats took the weight of the plane. The winch was released and the plane floated away.
Take-off was tricky and the conditions had to be just right. A calm, flat sea meant that the seaplanes could not ride up onto the heels of their floats to take off.
With a ‘glassy’ sea the seaplane ‘stuck’ to the water and Lt Press explains how ‘it was quite normal for the observer to climb out onto the port wing to take some of the weight off the tail in order that it could rise. He would then climb back into the rear cockpit once the plane was airborne.’
If the sea was rough, the planes could surf along the crest of a wave, although this was difficult and a wing could be damaged if the plane slipped off. Ackery described how ‘there was something tremendously exciting about scudding along the crest of a five or six-foot high wave’.
Dr Jenny Flood




