Trolling the web, as the Belly Achers frequently do (shh, don’t tell the boss this is really what we’ve been up to almost everyday!), we came across this gem of a story that we just have to share with you.

We also reckon it might just be the perfect way of testing security in the air cargo supply chain – and hey if you manage to do it a couple of times, you’ll be a ‘Known Shipper’ already!

So the story (and it’s a true story) goes something like this: Reg Spiers, a promising Australian javelin thrower travelled to London to try and recover from an injury that had interrupted his athletics career and threatened to impact his qualifying for the 1964 Olympic games.

When it was clear he wouldn’t make the games and by now stranded in London with no money to buy a plane ticket home, Spiers takes a job at the airport. But impatient at his slow rate of savings and desperate to get back to Australia in time for his daughter’s birthday, he stumbles on an idea – why not ship himself back home!?

“I worked in the export cargo section, so I knew about cash-on-delivery with freight. I’d seen animals come through all the time and I thought, ‘If they can do it I can do it.’” He also knew the maximum size of crate that could be sent by airfreight so he and friend set about building a wooden crate 5ft x 3ft x 2.5ft (1.5m x 0.9m x 0.75m).

The crate allowed him to sit up straightlegged, or lie on his back with his knees bent. The two ends of the crate were held in place by wooden spigots operated from the inside, so Spiers could let himself out of either end. It was fitted with straps to hold him in place as the crate was loaded and unloaded. To avoid any suspicion that a person was inside, the crate was labelled as a load of paint and addressed to a fictitious Australian shoe company.

And so, off he went! “I just got in the thing and went. What was there to be frightened of? I’m not frightened of the dark so I just sat there. It’s like when I travel now if I go overseas. There’s the seat. Sit in it and go.”

Although the cost of sending such a large and heavy shipment would have been more than a passenger seat, Spiers knew he could send himself cash-on-delivery – and worry about how to pay the fees once he arrived in Australia.

Packed into the box with some basic food (two tins of spaghetti, a packet of biscuits, a bar of chocolate and a tube of fruit gums), a torch, a blanket and a pillow, plus two plastic bottles – one for water, one for urine – he was loaded on to an Air India flight bound for Perth, Western Australia via Paris, Bombay and Singapore. Although Spiers wanted ultimately to get to Adelaide, Perth was chosen because it was a smaller airport.

Things didn’t start well – he endured a 24-hour delay at the airport in London due to fog and once finally airborne, let himself out of the crate to stretch. “I got out of the box between London and Paris, dying for a leak,” says Spiers. “I peed in a can and put it on top of the box. I was stretching my legs and all of a sudden, because it’s a short distance, the plane began to descend. A little panicky I jumped back in the box and the can full of pee was still sitting on top.”

The French baggage handlers in Paris thought the can’s unsavoury contents had been left for them as an unkind joke by their counterparts in London. “They were saying some terrible things about the English,” says Spiers. “But they didn’t even think of the box. So I kept on going.”

The next stop on the long journey back to Australia was in Bombay, where baggage handlers parked Spiers – upside down – in the sun’s glare for four hours. “It was hot as hell in Bombay so I took off all my clothes,” he says. “Wouldn’t it have been funny if I’d got pinched then?”

“They had the thing on its end. I was on the tarmac while they were changing me from one plane to another. I’m strapped in but my feet are up in the air. I’m sweating like a pig but I would not to give up and eventually they came and got me and put me on another plane.”

When the aircraft finally touched down in Perth, the cargo hold was opened and Spiers heard the Australian baggage handlers swearing about the size of the crate he was in. He knew immediately he was home. “The accents – how could you miss?” says Spiers.

“I’m on the soil. Amazing. Wonderful. I made it.

“I was grinning from ear to ear, but I wasn’t going to let them know I’m there now – I’ve almost pulled the whole thing off. I knew they would take the box to a bond shed. When they put me in the shed I got out straight away. There were cartons of beer in there. I don’t drink but I whipped a beer out and had a drink of that.”

Spiers had survived 63 hours travelling in the wooden crate. But he still faced the challenge of getting out of the airport. Fortunately for him, his luck continued. “There were some tools in there so I just cut a hole in the wall and got out.

“There was no security. I put on a suit out of my bag so I looked cool, jumped through the window, walked out on to the street and thumbed a ride into town. Simple as that.”

The only problem was, Spiers forgot to let his friend in England know that he had arrived safe and sound. As a result, the frantic friend went to the media with the story, resulting in Spiers shooting to instant stardom at home. “I got a telegram from a renowned Australian politician,” he says, which read, “’A gallant effort by a real Aussie – and here’s five quid.’”

In the end the airline didn’t even make him pay the shipping fees – clearly times have changed! Talk about misdeclaring the air waybill! And if we haven’t spoiled the story for you already, Spiers’ adventure is the subject of a new book, titled: Out of the Box.