Age: 10+

Imagine flying over the Atlantic Ocean in a small airplane made of wood, cloth and metal. There is no GPS. There is no weather radar. You cannot radio home if you get into trouble. That is what two Canadian airmen tried to do in 1927. Their names were Captain Terence “Terry” Tully and Lieutenant James “Jimmy” Medcalf. Their airplane was the bright green-and-gold Sir John Carling. They took off from Newfoundland and headed for England. They were never seen again.

The race across the ocean

In 1927, airplanes were still quite new. Flying across the Atlantic was one of the most dangerous adventures in the world. Earlier that year, Charles Lindbergh had flown alone from New York to Paris. He became a world-famous hero. People in London, Ontario, wanted Canadians to make their own great flight. A prize of $25,000 was offered to a crew that could fly from London, Ontario, to London, England. That would be worth about half a million Canadian dollars today. Tully and Medcalf accepted the challenge.

Both men worked for the Ontario Provincial Air Service in Sault Ste. Marie. They flew over the forests of Northern Ontario looking for fires. Tully would fly the airplane. Medcalf would be the navigator. He would use maps, a compass, the stars and careful math to find the way across the ocean.

The green-and-gold airplane

Their airplane was a Stinson SM-1 Detroiter. It had one engine and was painted in bright green and gold. It was named the Sir John Carling after a London businessman and Canadian politician. The airplane would also carry a bag of mail. Tully and Medcalf were even sworn in as official mail carriers. A London printing company made a special green-and-yellow label for the envelopes. It showed the two airmen, their airplane and a globe joining Canada and Great Britain. Stamp collectors call this label CLP6. Only 100 were printed. Fifty-seven were used on flight mail. The mailbag held important letters, including one from Canada’s prime minister to King George V.

Trouble in the sky

Tully and Medcalf first took off from London, Ontario, on August 29. They soon met thick fog and heavy rain near Kingston. Tully decided it was too dangerous to continue, so he turned the airplane around. They tried again on September 1. This time they flew beyond Prince Edward Island. Then more fog blocked their way to Newfoundland. They were running low on fuel, so Tully turned south. He landed in a muddy field near Washburn, Maine. The airplane was repaired. On September 5, the crew finally reached Harbour Grace, Newfoundland. This airfield was much closer to Europe and was used by many Atlantic flyers. But the danger was not over.

A wall of fire

That evening, workers were filling the airplane’s fuel tanks. Someone knocked over a lantern near spilled gasoline. Whoosh! A fuel barrel burst into flames. Tully, Medcalf and the airport workers quickly pulled the Sir John Carling away from the fire. The airplane escaped the flames, but it had been pushed and pulled roughly. The next day, the two airmen checked the whole aircraft and made repairs. Then they got ready for their biggest flight.

The final takeoff

The morning of September 7 was cold and clear. Tully and Medcalf ate breakfast, packed bottles of hot coffee and climbed into the airplane. At 7:25 a.m., the Sir John Carling raced down the Harbour Grace runway and lifted into the sky. People watched it circle the harbour, turn east and climb to about 2,000 feet. It flew past Cape St. Francis and headed over the open Atlantic. That was the last time anyone saw the airplane. Crowds waited for it in England. It never arrived. Ships and airplanes searched the ocean. They found no wreckage, no mailbag and no sign of Tully or Medcalf. Did they hit a storm? Did the engine fail? Did they become lost in the fog? No one knows.

The envelope that escaped

The airplane disappeared, but one envelope from the flight survived. How? The envelope had travelled aboard the Sir John Carling during the first attempt. When the airplane returned to London, Ontario, the mailbag was opened. Somehow, this one envelope was left out when the bag was closed again. A worker may have placed it on a desk and forgotten it. That mistake saved it.

The envelope was later sent to England by an ordinary ship. Today, it is the only known surviving cover from the flight. Stamp collectors use the word cover for an envelope that has travelled through the mail.

The cover has several clues:

  • A postmark dated August 25 shows that it was prepared before the first takeoff. A special cancellation names the London-to-London flight. It does not have the later September 1 marking found on other flight mail. Tears and dried glue show that someone opened and resealed it. These clues help collectors work out what happened almost 100 years ago.

The stolen stamps

There was another mystery. One hundred special labels were printed, and 57 were used on flight mail. What happened to the other 43? Canadian stamp expert Marc Castel studied clear photographs of surviving labels. He used a computer to line up their printing marks, holes and tiny paper details. It was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. His work showed which labels had once been joined together in blocks of four. Old records said that two blocks were meant for the families of Tully and Medcalf. Before the families received them, the blocks were reported stolen.

Years later, some labels from the missing blocks seem to have appeared for sale. The blocks may have been pulled apart so no one would know where they came from. Some CLP6 labels are now in museums, archives and stamp collections. Others are still missing.

Could you solve a postal mystery?

Tully and Medcalf were brave airmen who tried something few people had ever done. Their airplane has never been found, but their story did not disappear. It survives in old newspapers, photographs, letters, postmarks and rare stamps. The next time you see an old envelope, look closely. A faded date, a small tear or a strange mark might be an important clue. You could be holding a mystery in your hands.

Quick facts

  • Airplane: Stinson SM-1 Detroiter
  • Name: Sir John Carling
  • Crew: Captain Terence Tully and Lieutenant James Medcalf
  • Planned trip: London, Ontario, to London, England, with a stop in Newfoundland
  • Final takeoff: September 7, 1927
  • Special label: CLP6
  • Labels printed: 100
  • Known surviving flight covers: One

Sources for parents and editors