Dangerous Waters: A Tale of Smuggling in Australian International Waters

Copyright © 2013  Stewart Mahony

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Balboa Press rev. date: 05/16/2013

Contents

Acknowledgement

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Darwin

Chapter 5

Cairns

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Bathurst Island

Chapter 8

Broome

Chapter 9

Singapore—Larantuka

Chapter 10

Finale

Acknowledgement

My acknowledgements for the manuscript go to two ex Royal navy seaman Daniel Dade who was a water safety consultant on Kevin Costner’s Waterworld movie and also for Sanctum an Australian based movie. The other is Gilbert Smith RAN who I also used for inspiration and Naval routines.

Prologue

It was then that Walker sensed rather than saw some movement out of the corner of his mask. He stopped what he was doing and held his flashlight out in front of him. What he saw made him tense up immediately because cruising about ten feet from him was a seven foot bronze whaler shark which was agitated in its motions.

He could feel his heart hammering and icy fear was about to grip his body when he sensed a feeling of anger towards the shark and he clenched one fist ready to punch the bastard on the snout if he came closer. Walker continued to hold the flashlight on it and watched it for a few moments, and then it cruised closer towards him so he purged air aggressively from his regulator. This seemed to have the effect of scaring it off, because it gave a sudden flick of its tail and disappeared from the range of his torch beam. His breathing began to return to normal as he slowly relaxed and unclenched the death hold he had on the flashlight.

Sometimes I wish I’d stayed in my boring flat, with my dead end life in Sydney, Walker thought to himself.

His new life of crime had started three weeks earlier and came at a high price. A price which would increase over time.

He was sitting at the bar as arranged, fortunately for Walker he had told Smith he would be wearing a red shirt and blue jeans, otherwise he wouldn’t have recognized him. Smith’s hair was longer and he was unshaven with a two day old beard covering his face. His face showed the ravaging of alcohol and hard times. His body was lean and had a slightly undernourished look about it.

He felt like he was on a blind date meeting a woman who was only a voice on the phone, but here he was meeting an old friend from the past, ten years past in fact. His name was Gilbert smith. (Gil or fish to his friends), ex-navy and down on his luck and it showed in his appearance.

As Walker entered the dimly lit bar with a jukebox playing "Wild thing’ in the back ground he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the circumstances surrounding their chance meeting.

He had met Gil at the welfare office and he said he had a proposition to make if he was desperate enough. Then he had laughed with a touch of mania in his voice. Normally Walker would have written him off as just another burnt out life statistic but his own life was on a never ending tread-mill of lost hope so he figured, what did he have to lose?

It was 2005 and he wasn’t getting any younger.

Andrew Walker 41 years of age divorced, unemployed with a teenage son who seemed to be managing without his old man around and a hostile ex-wife who seemed to delight in sending letters with court orders demanding more maintenance. Walker saw himself as forty and fucked, no make that forty one and fucked. It was in this cheery frame of mind that he sat on the bar stool next to his old buddy Gil ready for anything he proposed, legal or illegal.

Smith looked up from his beer as Walker sat down and said, Glad you could make it Andy, what are you drinking?

Same as you mate, beer’s fine.

Smith slowly turned towards Walker and raised in drink in a toast, Up the system!

They clinked their glasses together in agreement, What’s on your mind Gil?

Smith then proceeded to outline his plan which was to leave Sydney, a city of four million but the opportunities never seemed to come Gil’s way or Walkers for that matter. His marriage was stuffed and there was nothing keeping him in Sydney.

He intended to make his way up the Queensland coast to the Whitsunday islands where he planned to steal a yacht and then make his way slowly to Indonesia. He said there was a fortune to be made carrying illegal aliens into the country as well as some drugs now and then.

He deliberately kept the details sketchy as he wanted to be sure Walker was in before he revealed the full details of his plan.

Walker stared into his beer glass as if destiny could be revealed through concentrating on the bubbles of gas rising to the surface. He felt the plan had merit but he was still cautiously considering the criminality of it all.

Why did you choose me Gil? Smith fixed him with a lop-side grin and replied, Providence, providence me old mate. I’ve been planning this for months now and with my knowledge of the sea and naval routines combined with your knowledge of Customs and immigration we’ve got it made.

Walker paused while the barmaid wiped the counter surface clean with a rag.

Walker didn’t share his friend’s optimism simply because life had taught him to look for darker linings in the clouds. He also didn’t divulge the fact that he had been dismissed from his job because if his drinking problem.

"When did you want an answer Gil?’

How about tomorrow when we meet at the welfare office around eleven, agreed Ok", Walker replied.

Smith shook hands with Walker then slipped quietly out the back entrance of the pub.

Walker was filled with a sense of excitement and also of apprehension at the same time.

Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, thought Walker.

He’d been involve in petty scams before like growing marijuana or selling a bit of grass but he felt it was time for a change of scenery if not fortune. He’d been unemployed for more than a year, perhaps meeting Gil had been destiny, and a date with destiny Walker mused. I hope destiny has got nice tits Walker chuckled to himself as he left the smoke filled bar.

Things were just starting to come awake at Kings Cross as Walker made his way along Oxford Street towards the centre of the Cross. The Cross was known for its strip joints bars and prostitutes and promoters walking the streets.

Drug dealers, prostitutes and social welfare workers as well as the occasional police officers made up the poly-glot of sleaze which was life at the "Cross’. However on the plus side it had a sense of life and vitality about it, a breath of life even if the breath was predominantly bad.

Walker had told Smith he was in with his plan while at the welfare office, what did he have to lose? Walker thought if he stayed in Sydney in his tiny Granville flat he would continue to stare at his mindless television set as a substitute for looking at beautiful Sydney Harbour and slowly drink himself to death.

Smith was waiting at the El—Alamein fountain as arranged. He’d been waiting and people watching for ten minutes and presently was engaged in watching an enthusiastic hooker in black leather mini-skirt trying to make a deal with two young sailors. Walker moved silently alongside Smith and cleared his throat. Smith, despite being about five foot ten inches and built like a labourer visibly jumped and said, Christ Andy where did you come from? Walker clearly enjoying himself said, Come on Gil let’s have a drink to celebrate our new partnership.

They spent the rest of the evening getting thoroughly drunk and further cementing their friendship. Later as they were leaving they were way laid by a guy shouting and promoting the Pussycat strip club. When they went inside the dimly lit club Walker observed that the acts were a lot more risqué than they had been in the eighties when he last frequented the strip clubs. Gil enjoyed himself by calling out undying love for a blonde stripper called Sally.

They were well and truly pissed by three a.m. so they caught a cab to Walker’s flat. Morning found Walker asleep in his lounge chair and it was only a passing cockroach running over his face that woke him with a start. As he surveyed the room he saw Gil stretched out on the carpet at his feet with a small pile of vomit next to him. Smith groaned and opened his red eyes,

Christ did I do that? He said staring at the floor.

Walker croaked Yes mate don’t worry about it.

After both had cleaned up themselves and the flat they took their coffees out onto the small landing to get some fresh air.

Once outside Smith turned to Walker with a cigarette in one hand and coffee in the other and said, You’re really in Andy aren’t you? Walker nodded in agreement and Gil said, How soon can you be ready to leave Sydney? Walker stared down the polluted street for about twenty seconds deep in thought, then after glancing at his wristwatch said, About three this afternoon Gil, I have to sell my old Nissan and pack a few clothes.

Smith replied, Travel light mate and bring along your scuba gear if you’ve still got it.

No can do on the diving gear, I had to pawn it last year.

No problem Smith replied, Here’s a hot visa card, buy what you need but keep the total down below a thousand bucks, use it once then throw it away.

Walker looked at the card in the name of E.F. Edwards smiled and said while pocketing the card, I’ll see you at three my man.

Walker went inside the flat and packed some clothes and a small toilet bag into a soft black carry all bag. He looked around at his tatty rented furniture and figured the landlord Costa could go fuck himself as the amount of rent due was equal to the bond so no drama’s there. His sense of excitement was returning despite the slight hangover he felt from the earlier evening’s celebration.

He drove to a car dealer he knew and received fifteen hundred bucks for his old Nissan skyline, and then he caught a taxi to a good diving shop he knew. Walker knew Gil was testing him using the hot visa card but he didn’t care anymore. He trusted Smith and would stake his life on that trust.

The sales assistant at the Dive shop was keener on making a sale rather than a security check on the card so Walker signed off as Edwards and took possession of the best Scuba pro gear and a canvas carry bag he could get under a thousand then he quietly left and hailed another taxi at the corner.

Smith arrived just before three pm. Walker removed his sawn off shotgun from its hiding place under the couch an as well as five cartridges he kept just in case. These he put in with the scuba gear hoping they would not be needed. They quickly loaded Walker’s gear into Smith’s blue ford wagon. As they were loading Smith asked, Did you pack your passport mate? Walker had but he asked why he’d need it.

For the lovely ladies in Bali mate. Smith replied with a lewd smile on his face.

This satisfied Walker and heightened his sense of excitement. Asian women were his big weakness. In the correct setting that is, and that was in their own cultural surrounds untainted by western values and ideals.

Smith drove smoothly out of Sydney and soon they were purring along the northern freeway which led to Queensland. Smith described his driving as the perfect combination of man and machine. Walker didn’t much care either way he was just glad to be leaving Sydney and his old life behind.

Smith was probably close to the truth about his driving for this particular automobile. For the twenty years he had been driving; the last ten were at the wheel of his beloved blue lady ford.

This V8 engine had been lovingly restored, body painted a deep royal blue, re-chromed and the interior restored to its original condition. The rear mudflaps had chrome silhouettes of women on them.

Both men were in a jubilant mood, Walker because he was looking forward to a new start and Smith for his own reasons. Walker didn’t ask and he didn’t want to know as he was sure it would lead to illegal confidences being shared. As they ran out of freeway Smith said,

Today Brisbane tomorrow the world.

As they headed further north Gil proceeded to explain in detail his plan and his preparations for it.

Walker enquired, What made you choose Airlie beach in favour of Cairns Gil? Smith explained that he had explored other areas but the location selected was more remote and had less naval patrol boats in the area. The Whitsundays were a group of unspoilt continental islands. Many of them were reserved as national parks and were uninhabited.

As the day progressed Walker shared the driving for a while then they reached Brisbane about nine o’clock that night.

The next morning after an overnight stay at a non-descript cheap motel on the main highway, they had a hearty English breakfast at a roadhouse. Then they filled up the blue lady as well as a spare 10 gallon jerry can of fuel. This entire trip Smith had paid for with one of his bogus credit cards. Later he stopped at a public phone booth and deliberately left the false cards in plain sight. Walker asked what was happening and Smith explained that he didn’t want to leave a trail any further north than Brisbane so from then on they would have to pay cash for any purchases. This was a precaution against any cops trying to track them later. Walker was reassured by his friend’s precautions and he also had to admit Smith was showing good forward planning.

They drove on in silence with the V8 eating up the miles and they passed through Rockhampton, a large regional city about four hundred miles north of Brisbane and about twenty miles from the sea. As they were leaving the outskirts of Rockhampton after refuelling the car and their bodies, they both saw a hitch-hiker signalling for a