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Word: cockpits (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1930-1939
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Usage:

...large aircraft there is more to do in the cockpit than can reasonably be expected of anybody. . . . There is a multiplicity of wheels, buttons, knobs, gadgets, instruments to be checked, landing gear. ""wing flaps, radio communication, navigation problems, fuel consumption, ground speed...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Science: Blots & Prospects | 2/7/1938 | See Source »

...aghast to find no Private Strozier in his ship. Then the phone rang. Over the wire came Private Strozier's voice, "You wiggled your hand. I thought the plane was on the blink. I bailed out." Said the major, "I was cold. I wanted you to close the cockpit, not empty...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany, Nov. 1, 1937 | 11/1/1937 | See Source »

Before the Vagabond left the cockpit to return home; a Nantucketer who had been reckoning; the lines of his boat, shuffled his feet and spat over the wharf as though he wanted to step down and talk. The Vagabond hailed him to come aboard. The old salt accepted, and soon they were swapping tales such as only fishermen and sailors can. As the man, his face a grey stubble and his eyes reflecting a quiet pride, forgot the Cambridge puppy squatted before him and became absorbed in his own, other world, there unrolled a story...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 10/6/1937 | See Source »

...climbed into his own boat, and sat down in the cockpit where he had sat time and again before, times when it had blown steadily from the west, and to sit and be borne along through the waves was bliss; and times again when the wind whistled down from the north, when to sit in that cockpit was o wish to be dead, and to go below into the tumbling cabin was like wrestling with the hand of death itself. He mused a bit in the half light of the tin shed, and his eye caught on a splintered piece...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 10/4/1937 | See Source »

Suddenly, as he sat in the cockpit, whole scenes of serious sailing lived before him, scenes of the sea that gives New England its character. He saw the shores of the Kennebee River, a wild, fair stream, where the rocks jut right down to the water's edge, and trees, native pines, overhang the channel. Indians, the old Abenakis, paddled this stream in their canoes long before white men came with sloops and schooners, and all the modern devices for safety on the waters. He saw the waterfront of Portland, a city set on an hill, and a commercial center...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 10/4/1937 | See Source »

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