For a guy who crashed spectacularly the first time he flew a trike, Eppo Harbrink Numan's come a long way - literally and figuratively.

Numan, a restaurateur from The Hague in Holland, had his first flight in a two-place trike with a friend in Belgium in 1981.

Since that time he's accumulated over 400 hours in ultralight flight, including 95 hours and 37 minutes while flying his weightshift machine from Rotterdam to New York City. On August 2nd 1990 the (then) 49 year old Dutchman circled the Statue of Liberty on Ellis Island - the final leg of an Atlantic crossing that presented both adventure and adversity.

Quite a feat? You bet! Was he crazy to attempt such a flight? No, but this is definitely a story about determination and triumph in the face of adversity.

Numan was first introduced to ultralights while attending a boat show in 1981. He'd gone to the exhibition looking for a new windsurfing board. When he saw a wing and trike hanging from the ceiling of the exhibition hall, the sight rekindled an aviation interest he had been harbouring since taking flight training at age 24. Numan admits to spending the rest of the day harassing the folks in the booth, who directed him to Chris Draper of Medway microlights. It wasn't long after the show before he made his way to the Medway flying school in England and came home with two machines - a single seater and a two seater.

Learning to fly the trike provided a number of interesting experiences for Numan and his instructors, especially his first attempt in a two-seater which culminated with him and his instructor hanging upside down after an unorthodox somersaulting manoeuvre on landing. Eventually Eppo mastered the art of flying the trike, and became a devotee of the sport - but not without a few more memorable moments.

While vacationing on the island of Corsica with his two sons in August of '82, Numan couldn't stay away from his trikes. One morning while flying over the mountains and hills of the island and observing the morning fog hugging the land, he was overwhelmed with the beauty of it all

"1 was flying along and all of a sudden the whole world seemed to open up to me. It was so amazingly beautiful I decided right then and there I wanted to fly the whole world in this manner. I landed and later on that day told my sons, 'Hey, I'm going to fly this thing around the world.' They said 'Oh, God. we always knew he was crazy. Now here is the proof! But I was so excited about the idea. I said to them, 'Hurry, get into the van, we're going to the bookstore to buy some maps.' I wanted to start figuring out if it could be done if you loaded the machine with enough fuel. I bought a little pocket diary with a map of the world and spent hours measuring distances with the tip of a pencil.

"From that point on I was fixated on flying around the world. When I returned to Holland, I started calling embassies to find out about getting permission to overfly countries. I started with the Chinese and Russians. The Chinese were delighted, but the Russians were less enthusiastic. Eventually I gave up the idea of flying the world because of the bureaucratic hassles that would be involved. But I knew the most difficult part would be crossing the North Atlantic. If an ultralight could make that part of the trip, then it could indeed fly around the world. So I set out to prove it could be done by flying the hardest part, the North Atlantic."

Eppo spent a couple of years gathering materials for the flight, trying out different wings, etc. By early 1984 he thought he had pretty well outfitted the machine he'd use to make the crossing, christening it the Eppo Windmaster. On vacation again in Corsica that summer, Numan took tourists for rides to bolster his waning finances. On one of those flights, Numan was flying over the sea at about 1,300 feet when, in lifting his visor to point out an interesting sight to his passenger it separated from the helmet and immediately went through the propeller, destroying one of the blades.

The ultralight began to tumble, the control bar was ripped from Eppo's hands, and the machine fell straight into the sea. Numan recalls the event vividly, "I saw the water coming at us so fast I was convinced we couldn't survive the impact. I remember opening my belt before impact, which threw me into all the cables and tubes. I was knocked out but regained consciousness immediately after hitting the cold water. I remember being surprised and overjoyed at still being alive, and then I realised, 'My God, l'm going to drown.'"

Amazingly, both Numan and his passenger survived. but Numan suffered a broken nose, two broken ribs, a broken eye socket and numerous cuts and bruises. After four days of dreadful, unprofessional treatment at the local hospital Numan checked himself out. Wanting to see if he still had the courage to fly again. he strapped himself into his single seal machine and headed out over the sea, hoping he might be able to spot his two-place trike and start a rescue mission for the machine he wanted to fly across the Atlantic. But that was not to be: the machine was now settled into water 240 feet deep.

About a week later it was discovered that Numan had also suffered broken vertebrae during that accident. The next 15 months were an extremely difficult period, as he experienced many sleepless nights because of serious medical and personal problems. Almost fully recovered, Numan was vacationing with his oldest daughter in August of '85 when he was again filled with the spirit to carry on with his flight. He recalls saying. -'Hey, Paula, remember that crazy idea of my flight? I'm going to get a new wing and a new trike and in the summer of '86. I'm going to fly the Atlantic!"