Paradise Warrior
Page 25
The new supplies took up every spare space on the deck, making the passengers even more tightly packed together. Fuel and water tanks were filled, along with every spare container they could find. The jury-rigged sail was scrutinised for security, and every part of the boat checked for seaworthiness.
By the time the old boat was underway again, they had lost nearly a week, while the Selat Sunda Strait was two hundred and fifty miles to the south, and two long day’s journey for the old wooden boat. The marine traffic would increase dramatically for the next week, until they made it through the Strait and passed Jakarta, one of the heaviest concentrations of population in the Indonesian Islands. With the increase in population, it also brought an increased possibility of being boarded by pirates, or worse: stopped by the Indonesian authorities.
The lines on the old man's face deepened while he gazed to the horizon, contemplating what was looming, his gnarly hand trembling on the splintered, wooden rudder. What happened to them once they passed the Selat Sunda Straits, was in the hands of God Himself now.
*~*~*~*
Cat napping was the old man's way of sleeping. He’d tie the rudder and use it as a pillow, so that if anything went awry, the movement would wake him immediately. The winds had been calm over the two day trip and put them further behind on their travel schedule. Meanwhile, two days turned into three and the small boat bobbed around on the calm sea, like a cork in a bathtub. He contemplated using the engine, then thought better of it. What he conserved now, may save their lives later.
The marine traffic had increased considerably in the past two hours. Vessel lights appeared like tiny, floating pin pricks, hovering on the dark horizon. The pin prick might be a small boat like his, or a much larger one. In any instance, they all presented a substantial threat in the dark.
The old boat rounded a point, then a mass of light assaulted the old man's eyes, making him squint... Jakarta! He peered over his right shoulder. The first red murmurings of dawn appeared over the hills of Sumatra. Before he knew it, he had entered the shipping channel leading to the Selat Sunda Strait and then finally, the Indian Ocean. As dawn spread across the waters to the sleeping city, a breeze caught the sail. It flapped and snapped into a taut 'D shape’ and the small vessel accelerated, ploughing through the Strait and hopefully escaping the prying eyes of authority.
The old man couldn't believe his fortune. They had arrived in the Strait just on daylight, allowing him enough light to navigate safely and then a wind had come up just in time to push them through. Escalating his confidence and in a moment of hope, he felt assured they had slipped through undetected. The Selat Sunda was about a mile wide, with an island stuck dead in the middle of the waterway. The Indonesian Government had planned to build a bridge between Java and Sumatra, joining the two islands. At present, the islands were connected by ferry, but it was too early to run into that hazard.
If the rest of the trip went as smoothly as their escape into the Selat Sunda, they might even survive.
*~*~*~*
In a high rise building overlooking the Strait, a pair of binoculars sharply focused on the movement of the old boat, while the concentrating eyes were keenly aware that dawn was the time most illegals made their run through the waterway. In a moment of decision, the uniformed figure reached for his office phone and dialled a number.
"Good morning, General. The boat load of illegals are moving through the Strait as we speak; I have them in view now. Do you want the navy to sink them?"
"No. It's a good possibility they are heading for Australian shores, so our friends in Australia can deal with this one."
"Yes, sir."
The uniformed man put down the phone and continued watching until the boat disappeared around the point. The General was at least right, in the direction they were heading.
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