Port Moresby (Jackson’s) International Airport, Papua New Guinea

Part one of an essay series by Mike Feeney of Hamilton, New Zealand

(Nota Bene and Caveat Emptor: This essay is intentionally lengthy, meandering and, at times, digressive. It covers a vast sweep of time from the 1930s to the present day. It reflects on people both extant and long departed. It covers events that played a crucial role in shaping the destiny of we here in the South and South West Pacific. Now hear this dear recipient; if you have not the patience or the spare time for a contemplative read, may I kindly suggest that you give it the flick right now or perhaps save for another day. If still with me I suggest you go up and right to click on Maximise for ease of reading.)

Part one of an eventual essay series is a nostalgic and historic reflection on this important and, potentially, strategically vital facility in the South-West Pacific region. The excellent 1973 photograph, below and attached, was captured by an old chum who has been deeply involved in PNG aviation for a very long time and who still resides in the country some miles NNW of Madang on the lovely northern coastline. Thank you Graham Hawthorne for reworking the photograph you took from the roof of the hangar of our old workplace.  If you use the Google map site you will be able to study the current aerodrome and the now very large and highly populated city. Please feel free to forward on to any old PNG ex-patriates or their kith and kin and anyone else who may be interested in our neighbouring nation. To expedite download time, I have limited the file size by using just the one image. But, as I am sure most recipients are aware, to refresh your knowledge of the aircraft types mentioned, just Google it and a seemingly endless plethora of historical and technical data and images will be available for study. For readers who are keen to further their understanding of the geopolitical history of the region, as well as aircraft types, there are ample key words and terms imbedded within the text that will produce extensive results from your search engine(s). For those who may wish to read some of my current writings, just go to my “Flight International” magazine blog site at:

and you may care to go to the Home page and read Airspace Forums at:

From Mike Feeney of Hamilton, New Zealand. Comments and corrections are most welcome.

Current aerodrome status

ICAO: AYPY.  IATA: POM. Operator: PNG CAA. Lat: 09′ 26″ S. Long: 147′ 13″ E. 124 feet AMSL. Runway 14L/32R: 2,750 metres. Runway 14R/32L: 2,072 metres. Typical day temp. 33C., reducing to 23C overnight. Density altitude at 14.00 hrs: 2,100′. Annual wind and climate pattern: November to March the North-West monsoon period prevails. April to October the South-East trade winds predominate. However, between the changeovers, there are prolonged periods of doldrum conditions as the Inter-tropical Convergence Zone traverses north and south twice per year. Port Moresby is located in a “rain-shadow” area and may suffer almost drought conditions during part of the SE trade-wind period, whilst just 50 km away, lush rain forest will be found. During the cyclone season, the southern latitudes of eastern PNG are sometimes affected by the northern quadrant of these Coral Sea and Queensland deep depressions. But the winds seldom exceed 50 knots though they do cause damage to the more lightly built dwellings and village structures.

Shortly following the December 1941 Pearl Harbour attack, the Japanese land and air forces just virtually ’strolled’ into the lightly defended northern coastal ports of Australian and Dutch New Guinea and the large islands of New Britain, New Ireland, Bougainville and others of the British Solomon chain. Rabaul became Admiral Yamamoto’s HQ for the South-West Pacific. (I have been into his under-ground bunker/planning room). Some local people initially welcomed the troops as they perceived them as non-European liberators. It is an unpalatable fact that some of the German, Dutch, Australian and British copra plantation managers and overseers were arrogant racists with sadistic and bullying tendencies who, having stolen their land, proceeded to treat the local village people as near-slave labour. Some of these disreputable types were ‘Remittance-men’ or those who had committed some indiscretion, or worse, in their homeland.

There were, of course, many more humane and understanding Europeans who, as the 20th century advanced, did much to enhance the health and welfare of the PNG people. I enjoyed meeting some of them during the course of my flying duties into their airstrips and, if the weather deteriorated later in the day, which it frequently did, overnighted in their homes and chatted during the evening over a dram or two. Some of these plantation operators became WWII ”Coastwatchers” who spent years hiding in the higher jungle areas from where, using hand or pedal-cranked radios, they reported on Japanese aircraft and shipping movements. They were greatly assisted by loyal PNG local people who faced certain death if caught by the enemy.

The PNG people were to learn that the Japanese Officer class spearheading the Japanese lust/drive for other people’s land, oil, rubber and mineral ore, had some murderous behaviourial tendencies when not blindly and instantly obeyed. The ordinary private soldiers were not so inhuman, but were sometimes treated nearly as badly as the occupied population. Of course in the hinterlands of mainland New Guinea, the tribes were scarcely aware of the war, as they had lived totally independent lives for tens of thousands of years. Indeed, even during my early time in PNG, several large Highland regions were classified as Restricted areas into which only Administration  armed patrols and we pilots were cleared to enter. It may surprise you to know that it was not until the 1930s that a few Europeans began to carefully penetrate into the Central and Western Highlands which were highly populated by very skilled bowmen, spearsmen and axemen; though they had no knowledge of firearms. The Japanese did not venture far inland until the true ground warfare began. They soon started bombing Port Moresby from their Lae base; just as they were doing to Darwin from bases in the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). The town and its vital port was defenceless until March of ’41 when the 34 year old and well liked and respected RAAF Squadron Leader John Jackson formed the now famous 75 Squadron and took their Curtiss P-40E Kittyhawks up to Port Moresby. In a low kinetic energy dogfight, the P-40 was no match for the light agile Nakajima Ki-43 ’Oscar’s which were based at Lae; on the other side of the Owen Stanley ranges but within easy range of Port Moresby.(165 nautical miles. About 1.4 hours for a laden Mitsubishi G3M “Nell” or G4M “Betty” climbing to 13,000 feet.) The P-40E and the Ki-43 had much the same horsepower and max.  level speed but the Oscar was more than a tonne lighter in typical New Guinea operating situations and had superior handling qualities at lower to mid-range airspeeds. As long as the Kittyhawk had altitude and its speed was kept up, it had some advantage and the firepower to destroy the Japanese aircraft with one short accurate burst from its six 0.50″ machine guns. The P-40 could escape from a Ki-43 in a dive, assuming it had some altitude to trade. In 1941 neither the Army ‘Oscar’ or the Navy Mitsubishi A6M  ’Zero’ were equipped with armour protection for the pilot nor had they self-sealing fuel tanks. Whilst they had a high thrust-to-weight ratio, excellent rate and angle of climb and small turn radius, they were built more along the lines of a light high-powered sporting/racing aircraft and were hopeless against faster, high-energy types such as the Lockheed P-38, Grumman F6F Hellcat and the Vought F4U Corsair of which both the latter decimated them later in the Pacific air battles.  But I digress…..back to PNG and Jackson’s.

John Jackson and his much younger pilots were into action on the afternoon of their arrival and destroyed one bomber. The following day they strafed Lae ‘strip, destroying or damaging 12 aircraft. During six weeks of action, they destroyed 44 aircraft and damaged a further 44 but suffered heavy losses with 12 pilots killed and many others being injured. By then the unit was down to just one serviceable P-40.

On April 28th, 1942, John Jackson was shot down and killed in his Kittyhawk (A29-8) whilst defending Port Moresby. The squadron was withdrawn to Queensland to regroup but returned in August to join with 76 Squadron to play a vital role in the defence of Milne Bay when the Japanese invaded that south-eastern region. And so, even though it had been in operation many years prior to WWII, the airfield gradually became known as “Jackson’s”. When the American forces arrived, they referred to it as “Seven Mile”, that being the road distance from the co-located town centre and wharves. The other major airstrip was “Wards” which the Americans called “Five Mile”. The two aerodromes were linked by a network of taxiways and there was an extensive layout of bulldozed revetments to protect aircraft from shrapnel and strafing attacks. In the early ’70s, a drive-in movie complex was built on part of the old Ward’s airstrip and I recall thinking one night, as we enjoyed “South Pacific”, that the WWII veterans who had served on this once dynamic aerodrome, might have enjoyed having a beer with we current pilots, engineers and ‘hosties.

The crucial Battle of the Coral Sea

During the period from late 1996, a team of us were engaged in transforming John Wild’s Milne Bay Air (MBA) into a full-fledged Part121/125 airline; Airlines of PNG. I had an elevated company apartment which faced out to the south-east from which I had a stunning view over the Coral Sea. On many an evening, after a jolly day at Jackson’s assisting Chief Pilot Malcolm Douglas, and coping with a plethora of new manuals, the odd hijacking, riots, coup attempts and curfews, worried and malaria-ridden pilots (over 100 at times, crewing 26 aircraft comprised of some five types) deteriorating aerodromes and airstrips, unservicable nav. aids, weeks of restricted flight operations due to the vast pall of dense smoke covering PNG from our jolly next door Indonesian neighbours who were intent on burning huge tracts of their forests in order to grow oil palms (on the worst day we could barely see across the two runways to the Air Wing of the PNG Defence Force), and the usual funding problems common to all PNG operators, I would play some pensive composition by one of those brooding Russian fellows, sip slowly on a whiskey and wonder at the familiar stars and planets as the moon reflected across the Coral Sea. For over that very horizon between the 4th and 8th of May, 1942, the US Navy and the Japanese Imperial Navy fought out the first ever sea battle in which the ships were never in sight of each other. It was the way of the future. Aircraft became the Admiral’s long-range big guns. For most of my life I have been reading of this first of the Carrier battles and it was a thoughtful chap indeed who sipped his drink whilst looking at the distant horizon over which the young American pilots had died in order to save Port Moresby from seaborne invasion and certain loss of this vital seaport and its airfields as well as the entire island; the world’s second largest after Greenland. But, given the space which I feel the event warrants, I shall leave that to Part 2. Time to scroll down and take a look at Graham’s 1973 photograph.

My first sight of Port Moresby was just after dawn in April of 1964. In clear weather, my course classmates, ex Danish Air Force Eric Nielson, Austrian Derek Scherer and myself, a NZ and Australian agricultural pilot with just 2,800 hours, keenly observed the distant Owen Stanley ranges as our company (Ansett ANA) DC-6B quietly descended over the Coral Sea following a night flight from Brisbane. The high, heavily forested mountain chain seemed to stretch forever into the far hazy distance. We had spent most of the night in the rear semi-circular lounge, chatting about our recent DC-3 course and the weeks of torture in the company’s Link instrument trainers. We were to undertake the type endorsement flying in Lae, Ansett MAL’s HQ, after which I was destined to the desirable dual role of flying the extensive fleet of light aircraft as well as co-piloting and learning the lie of the land on the DC-3/C-47. My Flight Operations and Chief Pilot bosses, New Zealander Dick Glassey and the very likeable Aussie, Gordon Bigg, had me earmarked for an early command on their light aircraft due to my ag. flying background on short steep airstrips and my NZ bad-weather experience. It meant more pay, an extra stripe and the “pride” of finding one’s way about this big high land on one’s own. In those years Ansett had quite high experience requirements before they would turn you loose in one of their machines; no matter what its size. Prior to this, in the DC-3, I was grilled extensively on my growing geographical knowledge by chaps such as Dick Glassey, John Regan, Jim Perry and Gurd Franck. I actually enjoyed poring over maps and charts….still do!

Our chatter must have made interesting hearing to a couple who shared our night flight in the lounge. We only realised later when we met him at work, that it had been our PNG General Manager, Phil Steadman and his wife returning from leave! He must have smiled to himself as he listened to our inane, but excited babble.(the three of us had a well developed sense of humour…even the Dane. Derek later flew for many years with Ansett in Aussie before returning to Austria to fly with their national airline, and I wish I knew what became of Eric? He was somewhat older than Derek and I. But we became firm friends as chaps do when flung together by the winds of change and fate.) Many conservative aviators were of the opinion that to go flying in the Territory of Papua New Guinea (TPNG), you had be deranged, or stupid or both. Perhaps they were right, but for me at least, it was one of the few sensible decisions I have made and I just fell for the place literally on arrival.

As the DC-6 was fueled, we wandered about the extensive tarmac and noted some Patair (Papuan Air Transport) DC-3s and Piaggio 166s and a few Cessna 185s and a Cessna 310 operated by STOL Air. The sun had rapidly risen by the time we began the long climb over the Owen Stanleys on the hour-long flight to Lae of which more in Part 2. Returning to the photograph, you will see the two runways with 14 L&R running off to the right. Beyond the second ridge is the beginning of the notorious Kokoda Track or Trail. It is historically famous due to it being used by Australian troops to trek to the battle with the Japanese on the northern side of the ranges around Kokoda and Buna. But the 95 km route had previously been used during the 1930s to access a gold field. In parts, it is very steep and tortuous before wending through passes at 7,100 feet. Parties of fit trekkers still tackle it today with really determined groups managing the traverse in two to three days. It is considered to be one of the world’s hardest treks. (Google for much information).

When I arrived at Jacksons just 44 years ago, it had one sealed strip plus the old wartime strip of Marston matting; also known as PSP (Perforated Steel Planking). PSP was in widespread use in PNG and you will still find it being used for fencing etc., as well as a few airstrips. The first time I landed on it, I was surprised at the clattering noise and one had to be aware that, if not inspected and maintained, tyre cuts could result from rising retaining pins and sharp edges. Another problem with it is, that in very high rainfall areas, the subsoil may tend to wash out and must be repacked regularly.

The Fokker F-27s are the 200 series fitted with the Rolls-Royce Dart 532 of 2,250 eshp using a 40:60 mix of water and methonal for take-off. (max. 19,731 kg. 43,500 lbs). Max. landing weight was quite a bit lower but, unless one had to abort a sector early and return, the normal burn-off took care of most of it and it was not particularly critical as long as one did not thump the docile machine down too hard. We did attempt to do the load and trim sheets in a professional manner, but the truth is that there was often a tad more fuel on board than indicated on the paperwork and, using standard weights, we were somewhat above the 43,500 lbs figure at times. As an example, we had a daily afternoon flight from Moresby to Kieta on Bougainville. The huge copper mine was in full swing so we would meet the Boeing 727 up from Brisbane and trans-ship 36 hefty males, their heavy baggage and their tool boxes and the like. We were overloaded but technically legal. (I shall discuss this great aircraft more in Part 2).   They were much heavier and more powerful than the 100 series and carried a much greater fuel load. We could stretch them out to nearly six hours to dry tanks if need be.

But I see that Part 1 is already becoming rather lengthy so shall lay down my quill and give it a rest until Part 2 in which I shall chat about the Coral Sea battle, whether Australia and New Zealand were at serious risk of invasion and more on the F-27 and DC-3. One of the latter, VH-MAL, is particularly interesting; even famous! But before I go, just use your imagination as you look at the photograph. Mentally sweep away the neat and organised peace-time scene and imagine the same ground as covered in mud and crushed coral with running aircraft on it. Can you see the P-40s, P-38s, C-47s, Boeing B-17s, B-24 Liberators and Bell P-39 Airacobras? Can you hear the deep rumbling of their Pratts and Wright Cyclones and the Allisons as they begin to taxi. And can you see the tired, but excited, young Americans and Aussies giving a ‘thumbs-up’ to their ground-crew mates as they set off on another mission against the Japanese strongholds of Lae, Madang, Wewak and to Yamamoto’s bastion; far away Rabaul. Young men, barely out of high school, fighting against experienced pilots who, in the earlier phases of the New Guinea conflict, were comprised of veterans from the Japanese invasion of China. They must have thought deeply, as they flew over this remote and strange land, so utterly different to their friendly home towns in NSW or Kansas, as to whether they would ever see their parents and siblings again. Look out at the low foothills in the photograph…for just over on the other side is the Bomana War Cemetery where so many of them still rest today….the first time I visited it as a much younger man, I could not stop my eyes from moistening and had trouble talking to my companions as I thought of their young ages and the life they had missed out on………..