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The Bizarrely Successful History of People Mailing Themselves in Boxes


Man crouched in a wooden box, looking upward. Nearby, people open a similar crate with another person inside. Writings visible on the box.

Long before the age of biometric passports and full-body scanners, some travellers took a more... unconventional route to their destination. Like stowaways on ships, trains, and even aeroplanes, a very particular group of people, fewer than you'd think, but more than you'd expect, have attempted, and occasionally succeeded, in mailing themselves as freight. While undoubtedly illegal, highly dangerous, and never encouraged by any reputable postal service, the practice of self-shipping spans continents, centuries, and a wide range of motivations, from escaping bondage to simply avoiding the cost of a plane ticket.

Men on a ship's lower deck move supplies, holding lanterns. Dimly lit, with crates and barrels around. Text at bottom reads "Searching for Stowaways."
Searching a ship for stowaways, c.1850.

From Ship Holds to Cardboard Boxes

The idea of concealing oneself in transit isn’t new. The 19th century saw the rise of the “stowaway,” a term likely originating from the early 1800s. As railway networks spread and shipping lines grew in scale and ambition, hiding aboard a vessel became a crude method of escape or travel. Freighthopping became common after the American Civil War, and stories of people surviving transatlantic journeys in the bowels of ships captured public imagination. But these attempts were not without extraordinary risk—suffocation, starvation, dehydration, and hypothermia were all frequent outcomes. And for those who were discovered, legal repercussions or worse often awaited.

As aviation advanced in the 20th century, so too did the desperation—and creativity—of stowaways.



With airport security tight and commercial flights rarely offering an accessible hideout, some resorted to hiding in the wheel wells of planes. The idea sounds mad because it is: wheel well temperatures can plummet to -63°C (-81°F), with low oxygen levels and intense pressure drops making survival highly unlikely. Yet a handful have lived to tell the tale, including Mario Steven Ambarita, a 21-year-old Indonesian man who survived a short domestic flight inside a plane’s wheel well in 2015. Such cases remain rare, and success tends to depend on altitude, flight duration, and sheer, baffling luck.

A man emerges from a wooden box surrounded by four men. One holds a sign reading "Wm. Johnson". Victorian clothing style. Mood is serious.
Illustration of Henry Box Brown’s ‘resurrection’ in Philadelphia, from the 1872 book “The Underground Railroad” by Willliam Still

The Box as a Vehicle of Hope

But mailing oneself offers a different, if still perilous, opportunity. Parcel cargo holds on modern planes are typically pressurised and temperature-controlled, conditions that vastly improve a human’s chance of surviving the journey compared to an uninsulated wheel well. With the added concealment of cardboard walls, the would-be traveller can avoid detection, at least until the package arrives.



Perhaps the most famous example is Henry "Box" Brown, an enslaved man who, in 1849, mailed himself from Virginia to Pennsylvania to escape bondage. Aged 42 at the time, Brown faked an injury to excuse himself from labour, coordinated with abolitionists, and climbed into a wooden crate with a single jug of water, a few biscuits, and a blanket. The trip took 27 hours and cost $86—roughly equivalent to over $2,500 today. Brown emerged free and would go on to become a well-known speaker and performer. Yet not everyone approved of his publicity; Frederick Douglass reportedly criticised Brown for revealing the method, fearing it would prevent others from using it.

A man with short, curly hair and an intense expression gazes into the distance. The background is a faded purple hue, suggesting a vintage photo.
Reg Spiers, who posted himself in a box from England to Australia.

More than a century later, in 1964 Australian athlete Reginald “Reg” Spiers faced a dilemma that would push the boundaries of ingenuity, endurance, and legal oversight. A talented javelin thrower with Olympic ambitions, Spiers had travelled to the United Kingdom in hopes of qualifying for the Australian athletics team. But when he failed to make the cut and found himself penniless in London—his wallet stolen, no return ticket, and with no immediate prospects of earning his way home—he began contemplating radical options.


Rather than seek help from Australian authorities or ask family for financial assistance, Spiers devised a plan that seemed both ridiculous and inspired: he would ship himself home, literally. The idea was born out of desperation, but it would go on to become one of the most bizarre tales in sporting and aviation folklore.



Spiers confided in his friend John McSorley, a fellow athlete and former British javelin champion who was working in freight services at the time. At first, McSorley thought he was joking. But Spiers was serious. The two set about designing a crate that would hold Spiers securely during what they estimated would be a 63-hour journey halfway around the globe.


The box they built was approximately 5 feet long, 3 feet wide, and 2.5 feet deep—just large enough for Spiers to crouch or lie curled up inside. It was built with reinforced wood and included carrying handles, air holes, and internal straps to stabilise Spiers during turbulent handling. Inside, they packed a sleeping bag, a pillow, tinned food, a torch, a bottle of water, and an empty bottle to use as a toilet. The box was clearly labelled as containing “computing equipment” and marked "FRAGILE." It was consigned as air freight, cash-on-delivery, with Spiers banking on his ability to retrieve the parcel and sort payment later.


The journey was harrowing from the outset. The crate was shipped from London Heathrow Airport with an intended route through Paris, Bombay (now Mumbai), and finally Perth, Western Australia. Though Spiers had mentally prepared himself for a few days of discomfort, the trip became far more arduous than expected. At one point in Paris, the crate was left upside down for 22 hours, causing considerable physical strain. Worse still was the layover in Bombay, where Spiers’ box was left on the scorching tarmac in blistering heat for an extended period. He suffered symptoms of dehydration and heat exhaustion, conditions that could easily have been fatal.

Man in shorts and sunglasses stands near a large crate outside a corrugated building. Three other men converse nearby. Black and white photo.
The box being inspected at Perth International Airport.

Despite this, Spiers survived the ordeal. Upon arrival in Perth, the crate was left in a holding area of the airport. At this point, Spiers decided to take matters into his own hands. Using a pocketknife, he cut through the interior of the crate, made his way out of the airport without being stopped, and eventually hitchhiked back to his family’s home in Adelaide—unaware that the world was about to find out.


Back in London, McSorley had grown increasingly anxious. With no word from Spiers after several days, he feared the worst. Out of concern, he contacted the press. The resulting media coverage in both Britain and Australia turned Spiers into an instant folk hero. His journey, equal parts outrageous and courageous, captured the public imagination. Newspapers printed cartoons and headlines celebrating the “man in the box.” For a brief moment, Spiers was the embodiment of anti-bureaucratic cleverness—beating the system with a screwdriver, a sense of humour, and a wooden crate.



The airline, though initially furious, declined to press charges and waived the shipping fee, likely wary of the growing public support for the young athlete. Authorities did investigate the security implications of the stunt, but no major changes were made at the time to prevent similar acts. That would come later, after a few copycats tried (and mostly failed) to replicate Spiers’ feat.


Years later, John McSorley co-authored a memoir of the adventure entitled Out of the Box. The book gave further insight into the meticulous planning, the camaraderie between the two men, and the psychological toll the trip took on Spiers. In interviews, Spiers downplayed the danger, joking about it in the way one might recount a youthful indiscretion, though he acknowledged moments of sheer panic and regret during the trip.

Wooden box interior with yellow loops and black padding on the side. No text or people present. The mood is neutral and utilitarian.
A replica of the box Reg Spiers travelled in.


A Consice List of Real-Life Human Parcels

The notion of mailing oneself might seem like the domain of outlaws and escape artists, but in practice, the motivations have varied wildly—from political statements to pranks gone wrong. Here are some notable cases across history:


  • Henry “Box” Brown (1849): Escaped slavery in Virginia by shipping himself to Philadelphia in a wooden crate. His journey remains one of the most remarkable acts of self-liberation in American history.

  • Herman Zeitung and Ignatz Lefkovitz (1893): Two Austrian men who separately mailed themselves from New York to the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago. Zeitung arrived on July 28, having apparently beaten Lefkovitz by four days.

  • W. Reginald Bray (1900–1903): A British eccentric who mailed himself within England via ordinary post and again via registered mail, more as a stunt than a necessity.

  • Elspeth Douglas McClelland and Daisy Solomon (1909): Two suffragettes who mailed themselves to 10 Downing Street to confront the Prime Minister. Staff refused to accept the delivery, but the stunt drew significant press attention.

  • Reg Spiers (1964): Mailed himself from London to Perth, successfully arriving after 63 hours inside a box.

  • Brian Robson (1965): Attempted to mail himself from Australia to the UK with the help of two friends, Paul and John. He was discovered in the US, having spent four days in transit and nearly dying due to poor orientation and limited air.

  • Charles McKinley (2003): A 25-year-old who shipped himself from New York to Texas to avoid airline fees, charging the shipment to his former employer. He was discovered during the final leg.

  • Unnamed Inmate (2008): Escaped a German prison by hiding in a package collected by a courier. It was part of the prison’s mail room operation.

  • Hu Seng (2012): A Chinese man who attempted to prank his girlfriend by mailing himself. He nearly died after the delivery took over three hours, and the box had insufficient ventilation. Paramedics had to revive him.


The End of the Line?

Modern airport security and advanced scanning technology make this kind of subterfuge far less likely to succeed today. Freight is subject to greater scrutiny than ever, and most cargo is carefully weighed, tracked, and scanned. Yet despite the risks and increasing difficulty, these stories continue to resonate.


Why? Because they represent a rare and sometimes humorous clash between human determination and bureaucratic infrastructure—a kind of anti-travel tale, where the suitcase is the passenger. They remind us that for every mile of progress, someone, somewhere, is still willing to challenge the rules in the most literal way imaginable: by thinking inside the box.

Sources:

  1. Henry “Box” Brown, Narrative of the Life of Henry Box Brown

  2. BBC News – “The man who posted himself home from the UK to Australia”

  3. Smithsonian Magazine – “Boxed In: A History of People Who Have Mailed Themselves”

  4. The Guardian – “Brian Robson: ‘I posted myself from Australia to the UK in a wooden box’”

  5. CNN – “Chinese man nearly dies after mailing himself as a birthday surprise”

  6. The Independent – “Charles McKinley shipped himself across the US”

  7. Out of the Box by John McSorley and Reg Spiers


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