WOMEN & BROWN BAG VISAS

WOMEN AND BROWN BAG VISAS

I have to admit that, in part, this is another ‘Red’ story - It will do you no good to moan and groan - that’s just the way this story unfolded and it does include some other ‘non Red’ events. I am only jotting this story down as it relates the one time when Red’s likeness to Frida Lyngstad came in handy, very handy indeed.

The story actually starts before this tale. During the course of retrieving a ship for its rightful owner we had acquired some barrels of real Scots whisky, in fact we has 250 x 44gal drums of the stuff, so, as you can see, even selling at US$50 a gallon we had half a million in very saleable assets.

Now, the trick is selling into the right market and at this time that was China - not the tame British governed Hong Kong, that was too well policed - No, we were going to my favourite city ... Shanghai. Our ship was called the ‘Cosi Fan Tutti 1’ (I have mentioned her sister in another story), Usually this ship ran with it’s own crew (we owned it) but this time it was manned by the ducks plus three additional as it was a long voyage for the old girl. We had sailed from Lae and were making our way towards the Malacca Straits via the Java Sea, very close to Indonesia. Now, the old ‘Cosi’ may have looked harmless and usually she was, but I’m not completely stupid and we didn’t take this voyage unarmed - who knows how much had got out about our secret cargo - and it was certainly something worth chancing an attack or two. I guess I should mention that the cargo was stuffed into wool bales, one per bail - easy you say - well it had cost us $8000 just for the disguise, plus a lot of cuts and bruises getting the things together and looking right.

We had bypassed Bali and were heading towards Billiton Island when we spotted the ship following us. She was smaller than us at around 1200 tons but by the looks of things, faster. She carried no cranes or derricks so was obviously purpose converted. I wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about handling whoever they were, we had been doing this sort of stuff for many years now and a few scrubby, illiterate amateur pirates weren’t much of a threat - however, ‘Red’ was aboard and that was a worry. She hadn’t begged to be allowed to come - just quietly said that if I didn’t let her it would be unwise to fall asleep while she was around ... . I had to be a bit careful as one of Taff’s little jokes had backfired and we all keeping our distance from Red, it was the sensible thing to do for a few days until she settled down. We had all got a few new passports, compliments of Max Smith and at Taff’s urging, one of the two he got for Red was Swedish and made out to Frida Lyngstud, the name was slightly altered from the real one so that there was a fall back but anybody taking a quick look and seeing the picture (which was Red not Frida - although you couldn’t tell the difference) would have thought it was the singer. OK it was a bad taste joke but we all, except for Red, got a chuckle out of it, she just got boiling mad.

Back to the Java Sea. We actually slowed down as I wanted the confrontation to happen in daylight, after dark the odds got a bit too even. My one slight doubt was the fact that the ship now rapidly overhauling us was well founded and looked in good nick, which meant that, perhaps, these weren’t so amateur after all. There again, they were catching us fast now that we had taken off a few revs, this indicated that they weren’t too bright, in their shoes I would have welcomed the cover of darkness.
I’m not going to bother with a lot of detail regarding the initial encounter, you have all read about this stuff in the book and it was very similar.
They put two tinnies into the water, each with six men as an assault crew; they weren’t very good at it, one boat kept circling until it was under control and the other lost one man overboard, in the haste to get after us. By this time we had kitted up and were very well prepared to meet them.
There were a few bangs as they approached, just to prove they were armed. In return we sent them a solid wall of metal that instantly discouraged further endeavours on their part. Their bows were swung back towards their ship so fast that they even lost another man overboard... it was all a bit of a giggle. Or it was until Red appeared on deck, and she was white as a sheet and holding her right arm which was splattering blood onto the deck - poor old thing had been nicked in the arm.

Well, that changed everything, we were going to just steam on out merry way but this had put a new complexion on things. Morbid led her away and the rest of us took off after the rodents rushing back to their ship. I don’t think the old Cosi had ever steamed so fast, Stoker had all the stops out and safeties off.
As it was they would have got away if they hadn’t had to lift their boats, well one of them, the other upturned when hooked on and fell back into the water. By this time we were only 20 yards away and making their wheelhouse resemble a pincushion.
I remember we came along side with an almighty grinding crash, Taff was on the wheel and he wasn’t being polite about things. At this stage these would be pirates had flung their weapons away and were laying face down on the deck - it was all a bit of an anti-climax. At this time we weren’t in a position to do much about them except let the authorities know where they were - not that it would do the slightest good.

However, the day still had a surprise or two for us. First we found over $42,000 in their safe - we stole that along with some exceptionally good radio equipment. Then Guns appeared in the small mess room we were using, leading two western females. They were so filthy it was hard to tell actual features and the smell was indescribable. Both were still in a sort of shock, but comprehension was returning to dull eyes. I have no idea how many drugs they had in their systems but I had heard that white slaves (for brothels) were always heavily drugged for moving - it kept them docile. Unfortunately not all survived and I later discovered that there had been three of them but one didn’t make and got put over the side.
Morbid was called and he led the girls away for urgently needed medical attention, it was a godsend having him in the team, I don’t know how we would have stumbled along without him.

However, now we had a big problem. Two white females (we discovered they were from South Africa), who had been kidnapped while on a world walking tour; held by some rather nasty types, auctioned, sold and were in the throws of being delivered to their new owners. Why did this stuff always happen to us, all we wanted to do was sell our whisky and go home? I was still pondering this question (I’m a bit slow at complicated stuff) when the old ‘Cosi’ shuddered and started to slow down. Stoker arrived in the wheelhouse a few minutes later to tell us that an oozy ma flip that fed the thingamajig that kept the whatsit cool had fallen apart, the old girl hadn’t liked the strain we had recently put on her. It was something that required a port to get a new part. Of all the bad luck, we were not exactly in my favourite part of the world.

We spent the next day and a half steaming to a small port - I won’t mention the country as, I have enough people after my blood as it is. Needless to say it wasn’t a Christian country and thrived on corruption. Any ships that entered their ports soon learned that there were the official port charges and the unofficial charges that got paid under the table; they were called brown bag visas. It’s funny but I have usually found that the more fanatically religious a country is, the more corruption you will find. Stoker had radioed Max and a part was on the way. It would be interesting to see how much we would have to pay in backhanders to get the thing actually delivered.

The two South African lasses were on the mend but still far from classified as anything resembling ‘well’, while we were in port we would have to have them well hidden, as with Red. Pics had made out a dummy ‘Form 5’ but it didn’t include any females. In all probability we would just pay the usual bribe and no questions would be asked - but it’s always best to be on the safe side.
Our arrival at **** was uneventful. We paid the port charges, (both lots) and offered these port officials of a country where alcohol was taboo, a stiff drink or ten, which they accepted, along with a couple of take ashore bottles.
On day two the part arrived and a further brown bag got the item the ship without too much delay. Stoker and Cyclops spent a further six hours fitting the thing and then we were ready to go.
Naturally it was at this stage that things went wonky. It was one of the port customs officers (must have been a new guy) who took it upon himself to have a wander around the ship. He was very young and evidently his bosses hadn’t yet told him all the rules of bribery and corruption which only works if both parties stand by the system.
I was in the wheelhouse when he flew in flushed with triumph and produced a ladies purse and bikini (both Red’s) which he had found in a supposedly vacant cabin. Now it was here that things could have really got out of shape. There was no way that this guy was ever going to leave Cosi if there was a chance that he was going to make a fuss - but thankfully an alternate road opened up.
Red appeared in the door, still very white from her wound that was hidden under a long sleeve top. She was smiling and playful and looked every inch ‘A Star’.

Now you have to remember this was 1983 and the pop group ABBA had only just wound themselves up. In the East they were still big time and you often saw their images around, even in this godforsaken place.
The Customs guy just stared at her, he knew, or thought he did, who he was looking at. Red handed him her Frida Lyngstud passport and started babbling at him in some strange language. The Customs guy didn’t understand her, I didn’t understand her but Morbid who turned up that moment translated. He told this story of how she was decimated by a broken marriage, how she could never get any peace or take a holiday because she was so well known and got constantly pestered by people and how she had had a minor breakdown and was taking this secret trip to try and get herself back together.
There was a lot of oobler blooger neroota Moorta gafoogle sounding words between Red and Morbid.
There was a pause, then the customs guy‘s hand flew to his jacket, we tensed waiting for a gun to appear but instead he produced his note book and a pen which he handed to Red. Giving him a heart lifting smile she signed her name and added a little message. Not a lot more was said but to clinch things I handed him, to seal the deal, a further US$1000

As you can imagine we got out of that place as fast as was possible and didn’t even start to relax until well at sea.
Red stayed in the wheelhouse with me and Morbid went to let the two SA girls out of the storage locker and return them to his care in their cabin.
"I didn’t know you spoke Swedish" I said when we were alone.
"Of course I do" she replied. 'but that wasn't Swedish".
"Then what was it you were babbling at Morbid"?.
"Oh that" (big smile) "that was the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show. I arranged it with Morbid when I spotted him coming out of my cabin".
"Well’, I was never bright enough to know when to leave things alone "I hope we are going to have some wonderful sex tonight - you cost me a thousand dollars and that buys a lot of good stuff". Needless to say that went down like a lead balloon and never happened.

We didn’t land the girls in Hong Kong - that is (or was) too well a protected place. They were landed to some friends of mine in Shanghai along with more than sufficient funds to get them home in style. I even set a code so that they could let us know that they got home safely and four weeks later Max relayed the message from Sydney - it was good to know they were back with families.

Not many in the so called civilised world know or understand just how much white/brown/black/yellow slavery still exists. Trust me it’s as alive today as it ever was - they have just got better at keeping things quiet. I make no apologies for this story - if you can’t handle the truth of the world we live in then you are the one with the problem

Red left us in Shanghai and returned to Australia. I think she had had enough excitement to last her a while. It was actually a good thing she did as were about to steam into a very tricky situation ... but that’s a story for another time.