FIVE

THE TEMPER OF THE TIMES

By the time the expedition arrived in Madrid, Aloha had recovered some of her nerve. She knew the routine — get to town, book hotels and theatres, start the publicity machine — and was determined to show that she could be depended upon. Things began well enough. They overcame a succession of mechanical misadventures to reach Madrid safely and, once there, were able to win free rooms at the Hotel Sud America. By March 18, however, they still had not managed a booking for it was Lent. In deeply Catholic Spain, this was a time to avoid all indulgences, including entertainment. Some theatres closed altogether and no one was buying postcards. Even the bullfights were suspended until Easter.1 As the expedition waited, they became so low on cash they were “almost afraid to eat in case we are broke before leaving.”²

Late one afternoon, a trio of reporters rang the bell on the hotel desk and asked for an interview with the expedition’s female crew members.³ Fate and Aloha conducted their visitors to the hotel’s sitting room and began answering the usual questions about when the race had started, where they had been so far and where they planned to go next. Aloha described the Million Dollar Wager and the race around the world, prompting the youngest reporter to shake his head in wonder. “Only Americans make wagers like that,” he said. “We Spanish never bet more than five douros [sic],4 nor do we go in for such adventure . . . (except for) the toreadors.” His shoulders sank as he explained that unless you’re a bullfighter, Spanish women won’t give young men a second look. Fate and Aloha exchanged glances. Aloha was on the verge of bursting with laughter when the tallest of the trio asked, “Will you come to lunch with us tomorrow, out at the Golf Club? All of you I mean.” Fate and Aloha shrugged. Why not?

The next morning a grand limousine containing the three young Spaniards, plus a friend, arrived at the hotel. The group spent the afternoon eating sumptuous food, drinking delicious wine, and wandering the gardens near the clubhouse.

 

We played up to our roles till we were well on our way; they were the first to break the spell, after us having hinted that few reporters in any part of the world could afford such luxuries. . . . They told us the story of how they had seen us so often in the streets and tried in every way to get an introduction, all in vain, till finally they decided to drop in on us as reporters. . . . The boy I have tasked myself to, chiefly because he speaks English so well and is tall, is the Duke Ricardo d’Estrada, the [second boy is the] “petit Moreno” Count of Granja, and the third boy a cousin.5

*

Then Aloha received disturbing news. She wrote, “The situation is becoming unbearable. Mother is ill and leaves Nice for England in May. Really I don’t know whether to join her or not.”6 The only bright spot was that the captain had wired, saying he would return to Madrid on April 3.

Aloha finally made a sale in Madrid, although from an unexpected source. The duke and count came calling at the hotel, asking whether Aloha would present the Wanderwell films at a family get-together that evening. They could offer her one hundred pesetas for her trouble.

 

Of course I was only too delighted. 100 pesetas is not to be picked up so easily these days. Really, my poor Duke is becoming very sentimental. Kissing my hand as an adieu is becoming a frequent occurrence these days. Oh ye American beauties that will visit Europe, beware, oh beware of the Spanish boys.7

 

After that night, Aloha’s relationship with the duke turned more serious, though his family’s status meant their affair had to remain discreet. Still, the idea of an anonymous Canadian girl being pursued by a Spanish duke was flattering in the extreme. “The whole situation was too incongruous for words,” she would later write, “(and) I was swept away on the magic carpet of romance.”⁸ Aloha did not elaborate on the details of her romance, but did imply that it was thanks to the duke that the battered Unit N^o II was repaired and released without charge. Their hotel fees were likewise magically resolved.

*

The captain returned from “holiday” on April 3 and was appalled. The crew was in splinters. One of the crew, Armstrong, was gone — off to deal with some family matters back in Barcelona, apparently. Fate was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Aloha, whom he had trusted to lead the expedition, had not booked shows, sold cards, or secured advertising.

 

I am on the verge of being sent home for misconduct. I am sorry, sorry beyond words. Cap has lost all trust in me. It is all a misunderstanding and my one wish is to remain with him sufficient time to show him that every move made in the last three weeks was for his good. . . . This is my first break with him, it becomes unbearable.9

 

The captain announced that the expedition would leave Madrid immediately and sent a wire to Barcelona saying so, bringing Armstrong scurrying back that night. As for Aloha, there was nothing for her but to say a tearful farewell to the duke and move on. During a final visit, they exchanged photographs and he wrote her a short note: “So you will not forget this ‘daddy long legs’ you first knew as reporter and must not forget as a Friend.” Aloha pasted the picture into her journal.

*

The expedition landed in the town of Salamanca, a quiet, hilltop town some 200 miles west of Madrid. At the outskirts of town, people began following the strange-looking, flamboyantly growling car that moved slowly over the cobbled streets. By the time they reached the ancient Plaza Mayor at the town’s centre, the car was mobbed. Everyone seemed to know who they were and where they were supposed to go.

 

Walter Wanderwell was an expert at hand-lettering, and changing “signage” on the fly was sometimes a political necessity. Spain, 1923.

The passing of Easter made sales easier, but the expedition’s mood remained fragile.

 

For the last few days there has been nothing but eruptions; Lieut is becoming awfully fed up with the whole thing. Cap loses his temper at every possible occasion and poor Fate receives the consequences. Tonight I’m sure if I had a home to go to I should go, but there is none . . . . Mother leaves in a few days for, I don’t know where, so . . .10

 

It was the first time Aloha had seriously considered abandoning her adventure. The captain invited Aloha to spend the afternoon visiting the port with him. They rented a boat and admired the craggy, curving coastline. Aloha pointed out that she had now been with the expedition for six months. Cap was amazed. “Well you certainly have broken the record, no Wanderwell girl ever remained more than 3 or 4 months at the most. I congratulate you old kid!” Aloha, however, was in no mood to celebrate. “Don’t be in such a hurry. I may change my mind at any moment about going all the way round. . . . Just the same I am quite proud of the fact.”11

The tour trudged back to Bilbao, where Fate announced that she would not lecture. She was, she said, too well known here and did not want to disgrace herself by appearing in breeches. Exasperated, Cap let her go ahead to San Sebastián. Meanwhile, he called a meeting with Aloha and Armstrong, where he detailed his plan to build a third car. Aloha would have her own car to pilot full time.

*

By May of 1923, Spain was a dangerous place. Although Aloha had seen some of the unrest, she did not understand how serious the situation was becoming. The Spanish labour movement, known as the Confederación Nacional del Trabajo (CNT), had formed a military arm to fight back after years of persecution and assassinations by government and industry leaders. The general public was outraged by the catastrophic losses in North Africa, and it was widely believed that the army was corrupt and the Spanish monarchy complicit. The situation was on the verge of boiling over.

The country’s gloom was reflected in the mood of the Wanderwell Expedition. Although they were making money again, Aloha was “afraid our little party is sailing towards the rocks.”12 Unhappiness reached a flash point in San Sebastián when Armstrong announced, after yet another argument with the captain, that he was quitting. Fate quickly concurred that she was “fed up wit eet all.”¹³

That evening the captain asked Aloha to go for a walk with him. “We’ll go for coffee, anything [you] like to do,” he offered, which, in light of his prohibitions against caffeine, showed his sincerity — or his desperation. He told her he was leaving for France. Bordeaux was only 146 miles away and he would try to get a chassis and begin work on Unit N^o III. He wanted the crew to accompany him so that shows and sales might still be possible while he worked. As a gesture of peace, he even offered to let Fate and Armstrong use Unit N^o II until the new car was complete.

That evening the crew discussed the captain’s plan. Fate flatly refused to return to France with “that man.” Armstrong mumbled that he needed to return to Barcelona to “collect some property.” And Aloha said, “While there are still pesetas to make, I prefer them to francs.” Her aim, as she so often wrote, was to keep travelling. Returning to France would have felt like failure. The trio would stay in Spain and wire money to the captain. The next morning, Armstrong drove Walter to the French border where he caught a train for Bordeaux.

*

The crew headed south to Pamplona and, once again, failed miserably. Next they bumbled into Zaragoza only to find that everything was closed following the assassination of local cardinal, Juan Soldevilla y Romero.

Although they had no engagements, Aloha instructed the crew to stay for the cardinal’s funeral, a decision that prompted a shocking announcement from Armstrong that he had “long ago decided to get a car for himself . . . [and] that is why we’re going to Barcelona.”14 Aloha could stay with them or take the car to Bordeaux. If she decided to stay, she would become a member of their crew and, effectively, third in command. It was a cruel humiliation but Aloha, uncertain what to do next, agreed to stay on.

Fate insisted they stay in Zaragoza for at least a week, despite not having any income. Once the funeral had passed, Aloha was anxious to move on, to make some money, but Fate would not leave until she felt sufficiently rested. By the time they finally left for Barcelona, Aloha was emphatically regretting her decision.

 

In the back of the car amongst the filthy oil cans, etc., I cuddle up in one corner. I am so cold, so lonely. Out of sheer self-pity I cry. Even if Cap was a bum . . . he was a first class brother and pal, and I can’t live like this, it’s horrible.15

 

While rumbling through a dark country road (ironically, Fate had chosen to depart at night), there was an ear-splitting bang and the car came to a standstill. The crankshaft had broken and the trio were stranded on a remote stretch of high desert for almost three days without food and only some Malaga wine for hydration. By the time a rescue truck arrived, Aloha felt as though she’d been bathing in bleach: her lips and hands were cracked and bleeding, her eyes stung and she could hardly talk. The lame Unit N^o II was roped to the back of the rescue vehicle and pulled slowly down the hills back towards Zaragoza. Aloha hadn’t managed to move forward at all.

*

Back in Zaragoza, a cheery letter arrived from Cap. He was in Clichy (Paris), hard at work on Unit N^o III. He’d also hired two new secretaries, was selling cards and playing shows. In short, he was having a marvellous time and hoped that everything was going well in Spain.

It was Aloha’s turn to be appalled. Even without car or assistance, this man was able to thrive. A man with whom he’d travelled in 1916 described Cap as “a marvellous demon — a daring, brazen, disarming and charming adventurer who could flamboyantly flash in and out of people’s lives, leaving them dizzy and checking for their wallet.”16 Whatever his shortcomings, he was never at a loss for ideas, and somehow he always managed to succeed.

At the hotel one evening, Armstrong took Fate’s hand and explained that he and Fate had fallen in love and would no longer participate in the Wanderwell Expedition. They would soon be leaving for Majorca on their honeymoon. Unit N^o II would be placed in storage until they returned, and then they would drive it to Paris. Aloha could wait for them or find her own way north.17 Aloha had had enough. She left.