Key piece of Australian postal and aviation history uncovered in Maitland

It's a rare historic letter sent to a resident of Horseshoe Bend, in inner Maitland, marked as part of the first official air mail between Australia and New Zealand on April 9, 1934.

Although fatigued by time - being now 86 years old - the letter's envelope is clearly stamped in black ink with the name of the aircraft involved: VH-UXX - Faith in Australia. Below it, in smaller letters, is the pilot's name: C.T.P. Ulm, Commander.

For this is none other than the great Aussie aviation pioneer Charles Thomas Philippe Ulm. He's better known, however, as the famous co-pilot, staunch friend and business brains behind the legendary Charles Kingsford Smith, or simply 'Smithy', the man after whom Sydney airport is named. But while charismatic "Smithy" received a knighthood for his services to flying in 1932, the overshadowed Ulm did not.

Like so many of our nation's early pilots, Ulm died tragically young. He was 36. Just 10 months after delivering the first air mail from NZ to Australia, he and two others disappeared without trace in the vast Pacific Ocean in December 1934 after flying past Hawaii in the dark during bad weather.

At the time, the restless, hard-driving Ulm was trying to establish a San Francisco to Sydney air service. Before he became lost and dropped into the sea with no fuel left, Ulm had apparently decided not to carry a life raft on board to save weight. The aviation trailblazer, who had also earlier made the first official air mail delivery from Australia to New Guinea, had predicted his aircraft would float for two days if they were forced to ditch into the briny.

Ulm is remembered also for his special links with the Hunter, but more about that soon.

Today's rare 1934 air mail letter was revealed to Weekender by Lindsay Watson, of Tenambit. It's been in the family, known about by his wife Beth, for ages but kept under wraps.

"The letter was addressed and belonged to Miss Edna Guy, of James Street, Horseshoe Bend, West Maitland," Lindsay Watson says.

"She was my late mother-in-law. She died in 2012 and we knew this letter was in her house, but we had no idea where initially.

"The letter was deliberately sent to Maitland via New Zealand. It was sent from Aunty Lil from Sydney who must have been very forward thinking. She realised air mail between countries was going to be most important in future," Watson says.

"Lil describes in her letter to Edna that it is a very special letter on the first air mail flight. Aunty Lil says: 'You must keep this as in a few years' time it will be very valuable'.

"It comes with a 3d (3 cent) Aussie stamp and seven, red New Zealand stamps. We've still obviously got the envelope, which is a bit tatty, but quite readable."

While the monetary value of the letter today is debateable, there's no doubt that in historical terms it is priceless.

"For the record, I also believe Ulm also once landed at Broadmeadow," Watson says.

"I must admit that I was a bit 'browned off' at first because there seemed little interest in our find, but then Paterson MP Meryl Swanson got in touch with the Australian National Museum in Canberra and they might now be interested," Watson says.

"But I wouldn't like this air mail letter to simply go into a collection somewhere and be forgotten. I'd like it to go on public display and be appreciated for what it is and the history it represents."

So, what was 'unknown' aviator and tireless air travel promoter Charles Ulm like? And what did he even look like?

To get some answers I turned to freelance writer Rick Searle's 2018 book, simply called Charles Ulm and subtitled, 'The untold story of one of Australia's greatest aviation pioneers'. And why, the book's cover (pictured) co-incidentally features Ulm's Avro X aircraft (from the historic NZ airmail flight).

Searle reveals Smithy and Ulm were real celebrities around the world in their era and two of the most important pioneers in Aussie aviation.

They performed the first ever trans-Pacific flight and set up Australian National Airways (ANA) in late 1928. It went into bankruptcy in 1933 during the Great Depression.

Ulm was then desperate to drum up support for a new company before his final 1934 flight.

Searle concludes that Ulm's reputation has been neglected and overshadowed since his death despite his hard-won achievements in fearful flights steering cold, noisy, flimsy bucking aircraft over oceans.

So what are Ulm's special links with Newcastle and Lake Macquarie? The first occurred when Kingsford Smith and co-pilot Ulm made a forced landing on the now long-gone Boolaroo Racecourse in their Bristol Tourer biplane on June 18, 1927. The unexpected landing (from engine problems) caused a local sensation. The duo were trying to break a flight record for around Australia. They went back to Sydney by train, got another plane and successfully smashed the record.

The second Hunter Valley flight appearance was just as odd, but involved only Ulm. That was on June 14, 1929. That's when Ulm, in his de Havilland Moth, landed at remote Walsh Island, now part of Kooragang. Here he posed for pictures with officials from the now defunct Walsh Island Dockyard (1914-1933). This site, near Kooragang's Walsh Point, is now filled with industry and straddled by Stockton Bridge.

According to past research by Hunter historian Rosemary Melville, it may have been Ulm's only flight there. In her words: "With no roads or railway lines to Walsh Island, the only way for most people to get there was by boat. Aeroplanes landed there on two occasions, the first was an unexpected landing by two British airmen in August 1920."

Ulm was the second, and probably last, pilot to ever land there. The Dockyard manager at the time, Mr A.C.Waters, had begun building an aerodrome when Ulm dropped in to inspect progress. The airfield was an expensive exercise and was never finished, Melville writes.

Let's return to the air mail letter's proud co-owner Lindsay Watson.

When I first spoke to him recently by telephone, he said I mightn't recognise him later as he was growing a big, bushy beard "for a special job at Christmas".

Now retired and a local historian, he's a man of many interests, as shown also by his fascination with collecting beer cans for their stories, shapes and colours. He's got about 6000 empty cans on display.

While you're with us, did you know the Newcastle Herald offers breaking news alerts, daily email newsletters and more? Keep up to date with all the local news - sign up here

IN THE NEWS: