Here are two stories from the Charlottetown Guardian archives about long-ago aviators with PEI connections: Patrick Peters and Frederick Tobin.
First on the runway is Patrick Peters, who was reported to have built a flying machine and took it to Maine in 1890 to put on public shows. I’ve not found the original article that was quoted in the August 26, 1950 Guardian piece I read or any other account of his time in Portland.
I located a Patrick Peters on Find a Grave who was born around 1864 and is buried in Rumford, Maine, so he could very well have been the brave flyer; his connection to PEI seems valid even if the information about his date and place of birth is a bit mixed up.
Report Tells How PEI Man Navigated Air Machine In 1890
How a Prince Edward Islander navigated a 38-pound flying machine as far back as 1890 is related in the following article reprinted from a Halifax exchange of Aug. 13 of that year. The Islander’s name was Mr. Patrick Peters and the report tells of his arrival in Portland, Maine, with his machine.
Mr. Peters said he had made up his mind in 1885 that he was going to make a machine that would navigate the air. He objected to balloons, he said, “because they were too far beyond the control of those who risked their lives in them,” but believed a machine could be constructed capable of being as much under the management of the flyer as a horse rake.
He said he “took the wings and motion of a bird for a model, believing that if he could fly like a bird it would be quite enough. Only after repeated failures did he bring his idea to a point where he could say with any degree of confidence, “I can fly”.
“At last,” the report continues, “he constructed a bird of the following dimensions: From the head to the tail, 16 feet, and from the body to the end of each wing, 3 feet. The seat was in the body and the motive power used in the propelling of the machine was obtained by a combination of wheels.”
Described Flight
The account describes Peters’ first flight.
“His first real trial of his machine was made when he passed over a forest, making about two miles in about four minutes.”
“From his description of the way things looked below it would seem possible that he went at least 2,000 feet up in the air, and perhaps more than twice that distance. He says he went up and down at will, managing his 38-pound machine without the least degree of trouble.”
Peters’ purpose in going to Portland was “to make a little money by giving a public exhibition of his machine.” “He says he is willing to give any desired test and can go any distance desired. He can keep a few feet above the ground or can go up into midair.”
Peters assured Portland people that “it is a perfectly easy thing to fly with one of his machines.”
In 1890 there was still quite an amount of suspicion towards anyone who claimed he could fly, so the story concluded: “Portland people who know Peters say he is honest and he acts that way.”
Charlottetown Guardian – August 26, 1950
Our other flyer, Frederick J. Tobin, was as famous as Peters was mysterious. The following article from the September 29, 1925 Guardian describes his first connection to 20th century airship history as a surviving crew member of the Shenandoah that crashed September 3, 1925, and includes a link to an even more notable event he was involved in some years later.
Islander Has Narrow Escape
Among the members of the crew of the ill fated United States dirigible “Shenandoah,” which crashed to earth in Ohio over three weeks ago, with a heavy loss of life, was Pilot Frederick J. Tobin. Mr. Tobin is a son of Mrs. Margaret J. Tobin, formerly Miss Margaret O’Brien, daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. John O’Brien, of Bristol, Prince Edward Island.
Pilot Tobin had a miraculous escape from death, having fallen on the tree tops.
Letters from Mrs. Tobin to her sister Mrs. James A. O’Brien, Morell, and her brother, Mr. John O’Brien, Bristol, state that after Fred fell on the tree tops, a part of the rigging caught in his clothing and carried him off again trough the air. Once more he became disengaged from the plane and fell to the earth from an altitude of 100 feet, and was picked up by a passing plane, and at once carried to safety.
After a day of terrible suspense Mrs. Tobin was getting ready to go to Lakehurst, when she received news of her son’s safety.
Both Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien, aunt and uncle of Mr. Tobin, are very proud of his escape, and of the honor that will now be his. Prince Edward Island also has need to be proud of her grandson, as she can claim him through his mother. Mr. Tobin was next to the late Capt. Lansdowne. If there is another Shenandoah constructed Pilot Tobin may be first in command.
The Boston Post of September 11th contains a photo of Pilot Tobin, and the following notice: Frederick J. Tobin, a member of the crew of the Shenandoah who is reported safe, is well known in Arlington, where he formerly lived. He is the son of Mrs. Margaret J. Tobin of 6 Russell Terrace, Arlington. He has been in the United States navy for 11 years.
He was married two years ago, and besides his wife, who lives in Lakehurst, N. J., and his mother, in the family group are a sister Miss Mary R. Tobin and four brothers, Frank E. Tobin, a veteran of the late war, Henry L. Tobin, John L. Tobin and George W. Tobin, all of Arlington.


There is tons on the internet about the Shenandoah, including 1924 British Pathé footage and a comprehensive interactive online exhibit from the US National Air and Space Museum.
Tobin remained in the US Navy after the Shenandoah crash, and was still based in Lakehurst, NJ in 1937 when the Hindenburg made its final voyage. Not only was he there when the Hindenburg came in for a landing, it seems he was standing under it when it exploded, as outlined on Dan Grossman’s excellent Airships.net:
Natural instinct caused those on the ground to run from the burning wreck as fast as they could, but Chief Petty Officer Frederick J. “Bull” Tobin, a longtime airship veteran and an enlisted airship pilot who was in charge of the Navy landing party, cried out to his sailors: “Navy men, Stand fast!!” Bull Tobin had survived the crash of USS Shenandoah, and he was not about to abandon those in peril on an airship, even if it meant his own life. And his sailors agreed. Films of the disaster clearly show sailors turning and running back toward the burning ship to rescue survivors; those films are a permanent tribute to the courage of the sailors at Lakehurst that day.
I’ve probably seen clips and stills from the famous British Pathé newsreel footage dozens of times, but I’ve never seen the original reel and heard the narration that went with it; t was jarring to see that the Hindenburg had Nazi swastikas on its tail.
Interestingly, the “Oh, the humanity!” line so often quoted from the Hindenburg disaster coverage is not from the newsreel but had been recorded by radio reporter Herbert Morrison and matched up many years later.
Tobin retired from military service in 1947 and died in Fort Worth, Texas in 1978 at age 85.

















