“No, there's going to be no even tenor with me. The more uneven it
is the happier I shall be. And when my time comes to die, I'll be able
to die happy, for I will have done and seen and heard and experienced
all the joy, pain, thrills — every emotion that any human ever had — and
I'll be especially happy if I am spared a stupid, common death in bed.”
Well, he would get his wish.
The late 19th and early-to-mid 20th centuries were the age of what could be called the "niche adventurer". Growing exploration, increased affluence, improvements in the means of travel, and the fascinating exuberance that seizes a culture when a brief period of peace settles on the world all contributed to this phenomenon.
We have examined some of these lives before in our appreciation of Bob Manry, Wilfred Thesiger, Joshua Slocum, Bernard Moitessier, Francis Chichester, Gertrude Bell, Patrick Leigh Fermor, and others. While their backgrounds may differ, they are united in a polite disdain for the commonplace and could never fit into the regulated world in which we abide in the early 21st century. This is far too flat, narrow, safe, stale, and incurious an era for people such as this, although their spirit and verve would certainly be welcome, even if it did mean that they would be labeled and scolded by the moral and mental dwarfs of social media. I can't imagine that it would matter to them, as they knew the same style of scolding, if through different media, and they were never deterred.
Richard Halliburton was certainly a member of this group of inspired misfits. Born to a gracious and comfortable Southern family in 1900, educated at Lawrenceville Academy and Princeton University, Halliburton was just another member of the elite class marked for his good-looks and a talent for writing that enabled him to serve as the editor of The Daily Princetonian. His penchant for visceral experience began to develop at this time as he took a leave of absence from Princeton and served as a merchant seaman for a season.
While in Europe at the end of that voyage, Halliburton traveled the continent on a self-designed tour, using only classical literature as his guide. So exhilarating was this period that he realized he would rather be free to do this for the remainder of his days and reject common employment, marriage and family, and the other trappings of the conventional to become a vagabond for the 20th century. In order to fund this uncommon manner of life, Halliburton decided to write of his travels and adventures, thus creating a new genre of literature.
From his graduation from Princeton in 1921 to the publication of his first travel and adventure book in 1925, Halliburton filled four years with a tour of Paris, Kashmir, and Cairo; climbed both the Matterhorn and Mount Fuji, and sailed a portion of the Nile River. These adventures and his musings about life in general were captured in The Royal Road to Romance, a volume that was immediately popular.
This was followed two years later by The Glorious Adventure, Halliburton's re-tracing of the travels of Ulysses in Homer's Odyssey. This volume, too, was popular and well-received, as was his next book, New Worlds to Conquer [1929], which recounted his adventures swimming the Panama Canal [even though he was not aided by any sort of hulled vessel, the Canal authority still charged him a total of 39 cents for his use of the locks], and following Cortez's trail through Mexico.
A lifetime of adventures, three best-selling books, the creation of the adventure travel industry, and he was not yet 30-years-old. In between his adventures and his writing, Halliburton also created the "book tour", moving from city to city, bookstore to library, to speak about his tales and encourage sales of his books. He was regarded as an engaging and popular lecturer.
In 1930, while looking for new and uncommon adventures, Halliburton retained the services of Moye Wicks Stephens, and early pilot and eventual founder of Northrop Aviation. Using Stephens Stearman aircraft, he and Halliburton spent a year and a half flying in stages around the world. Thus they left from Los Angeles and flew, in fits and starts, to New York harbor, shipping the plane and disembarking in Southampton, England, then flying from Great Britain through India to Borneo and then to the Philippines, where they set sail for San Francisco and the final leg of their journey.
The eventual chronicle of that trip, entitled The Flying Carpet [1932] after the name of their plane, is a personal favorite of mine from among Halliburton's works, mainly as it captures what was still a largely unknown world before the rise of fascism, national division, and the Second World War; a world of remote tribesmen, white rajahs, and gifts of shrunken heads.
[An aside: I would note that Halliburton's prose could sometimes be excessive, and some of his adventures bear the whiff of exaggeration, if not plain invention, but that, too, is part and parcel of adventure travel. After all, what's even a simple cruise to the Bahamas without a little bit of narrative ballyhoo to share with the folks back home?]
While the round-the-world trip was remarkably expensive [approximately the equivalent of 1 million in 2018 dollars], Halliburton earned twice as much from the royalties and speaking engagements the adventure engendered. Enough, in fact, that he was able to build a remarkable and very modern house in Laguna Beach, California. Known as either the Halliburton House, or more often as Hangover House, it is currently being restored in hopes of opening it to the public in the near future.
The late 19th and early-to-mid 20th centuries were the age of what could be called the "niche adventurer". Growing exploration, increased affluence, improvements in the means of travel, and the fascinating exuberance that seizes a culture when a brief period of peace settles on the world all contributed to this phenomenon.
We have examined some of these lives before in our appreciation of Bob Manry, Wilfred Thesiger, Joshua Slocum, Bernard Moitessier, Francis Chichester, Gertrude Bell, Patrick Leigh Fermor, and others. While their backgrounds may differ, they are united in a polite disdain for the commonplace and could never fit into the regulated world in which we abide in the early 21st century. This is far too flat, narrow, safe, stale, and incurious an era for people such as this, although their spirit and verve would certainly be welcome, even if it did mean that they would be labeled and scolded by the moral and mental dwarfs of social media. I can't imagine that it would matter to them, as they knew the same style of scolding, if through different media, and they were never deterred.
Richard Halliburton was certainly a member of this group of inspired misfits. Born to a gracious and comfortable Southern family in 1900, educated at Lawrenceville Academy and Princeton University, Halliburton was just another member of the elite class marked for his good-looks and a talent for writing that enabled him to serve as the editor of The Daily Princetonian. His penchant for visceral experience began to develop at this time as he took a leave of absence from Princeton and served as a merchant seaman for a season.
While in Europe at the end of that voyage, Halliburton traveled the continent on a self-designed tour, using only classical literature as his guide. So exhilarating was this period that he realized he would rather be free to do this for the remainder of his days and reject common employment, marriage and family, and the other trappings of the conventional to become a vagabond for the 20th century. In order to fund this uncommon manner of life, Halliburton decided to write of his travels and adventures, thus creating a new genre of literature.
From his graduation from Princeton in 1921 to the publication of his first travel and adventure book in 1925, Halliburton filled four years with a tour of Paris, Kashmir, and Cairo; climbed both the Matterhorn and Mount Fuji, and sailed a portion of the Nile River. These adventures and his musings about life in general were captured in The Royal Road to Romance, a volume that was immediately popular.
This was followed two years later by The Glorious Adventure, Halliburton's re-tracing of the travels of Ulysses in Homer's Odyssey. This volume, too, was popular and well-received, as was his next book, New Worlds to Conquer [1929], which recounted his adventures swimming the Panama Canal [even though he was not aided by any sort of hulled vessel, the Canal authority still charged him a total of 39 cents for his use of the locks], and following Cortez's trail through Mexico.
A lifetime of adventures, three best-selling books, the creation of the adventure travel industry, and he was not yet 30-years-old. In between his adventures and his writing, Halliburton also created the "book tour", moving from city to city, bookstore to library, to speak about his tales and encourage sales of his books. He was regarded as an engaging and popular lecturer.
In 1930, while looking for new and uncommon adventures, Halliburton retained the services of Moye Wicks Stephens, and early pilot and eventual founder of Northrop Aviation. Using Stephens Stearman aircraft, he and Halliburton spent a year and a half flying in stages around the world. Thus they left from Los Angeles and flew, in fits and starts, to New York harbor, shipping the plane and disembarking in Southampton, England, then flying from Great Britain through India to Borneo and then to the Philippines, where they set sail for San Francisco and the final leg of their journey.
 |
| A Stearman of the type used; looks a little chilly, doesn't it? |
The eventual chronicle of that trip, entitled The Flying Carpet [1932] after the name of their plane, is a personal favorite of mine from among Halliburton's works, mainly as it captures what was still a largely unknown world before the rise of fascism, national division, and the Second World War; a world of remote tribesmen, white rajahs, and gifts of shrunken heads.
[An aside: I would note that Halliburton's prose could sometimes be excessive, and some of his adventures bear the whiff of exaggeration, if not plain invention, but that, too, is part and parcel of adventure travel. After all, what's even a simple cruise to the Bahamas without a little bit of narrative ballyhoo to share with the folks back home?]
While the round-the-world trip was remarkably expensive [approximately the equivalent of 1 million in 2018 dollars], Halliburton earned twice as much from the royalties and speaking engagements the adventure engendered. Enough, in fact, that he was able to build a remarkable and very modern house in Laguna Beach, California. Known as either the Halliburton House, or more often as Hangover House, it is currently being restored in hopes of opening it to the public in the near future.
 |
| Hangover House is center left; the one hanging over the rock face; hence its name. Well, that and Halliburton and his friends were frequently hungover while there. |
Halliburton now outlined his next adventure, this one to be seaborne. Working from his own plans, he hired a shipyard in Kowloon, outside of Hong Kong, to build a magnificent Chinese junk named The Sea Dragon. It was marked by construction issues, cost overruns, and design flaws; enough that Halliburton confessed to friends that the whole project was driving him mad.
 |
| The Sea Dragon enjoying a harrowing list to port. |
Finally, in 1939, with a crew of seven, The Sea Dragon set out from Hong Kong with San Francisco as its destination. Three weeks after its departure, Halliburton and his companions were caught in a typhoon. They were last sighted 1000 nautical miles west of Midway Island. During the height of the storm a passing ship received a message from The Sea Dragon: "Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here instead of me." Neither the junk nor its crew were ever seen again.
Six years later, with World War II coming to a close, and the newspapers filled with stories about the final stages of battle, a small article appeared in the Berkeley [California] Daily Gazette:
Believe San Diego Shipwreck May Be Halliburton Boat
The hulk of some ruined craft, bearing a resemblance to a Chinese junk, and of the same rough dimensions as The Sea Dragon, had been discovered washed ashore on Pacific Beach. While there was nothing specific that identified the craft, Halliburton's fans believed that he had finally reached his journey's end. Not that it mattered, of course, as Richard Halliburton had been officially declared dead a few months after his disappearance; yet another mystery consumed by that massive ocean much like Amelia Earhart just a year and a half before.
Halliburton was all but forgotten for many decades, but seems to be enjoying a renaissance of sorts. As noted, most of his books, and certainly the best ones, are still in print and enjoying new editions. There was a recent retrospective of his adventures hosted by the Smithsonian, and the Explorers Club of New York [of which The Coracle's editor is an associate member] will make reference to some of Halliburton's observations in their presentations. He is also perhaps the only of the niche adventurers of his era to be listed in the Internet Movie Database for his direction and narration of a 1933 documentary, "India Speaks".
I can't help but note, whenever some turtlenecked man in tweed or sunburned woman under a Tilley stands behind the lectern in a wood-paneled room and begins to tell the audience about aboriginal art or exotic island practices or the natural effects of
