Although the Spirit of St. Louis looked metallic, and was often described as such in newspaper reports, only the nose cowling was actually of metal. With only a thin layer of canvas between the pilot and the outside world, the Spirit of St. Louis was deafeningly noisy and unnervingly insubstantial. It would have been rather like crossing the ocean in a tent.
The Spirit of St. Louis, while often depicted as a metallic aircraft in media, actually featured metal only in its nose cowling. The rest of the plane was primarily made of a thin layer of canvas, which contributed to a surprisingly loud and fragile flying experience. It was akin to venturing across the ocean in a makeshift tent, emphasizing the daring nature of such a journey.
This design underscored the unique challenges faced by pilots during that era. The apparent insubstantiality of the craft heightened the risk of flight, contrasting sharply with the modern perception of aircraft safety and durability. Bill Bryson captures this extraordinary moment in aviation history in his book, highlighting the bravery required to undertake such an adventure in the Spirit of St. Louis.