# The Last Farewell. Part 2.



## Cpt Dick Brooks (May 13, 2013)

The Gathering Storm.
As if it was a special birthday present for Mariana on the morning of her birthday, the Australian Customs Service served a notice under section 49A of the Customs Act, 1901, on Début. It stated :- To the master and owner of the ship carrying the following name or registration markings, 'Début' - Official No. 166667 and described as a fishing-vessel of 564.17 tons gross, 199.65 tons net, moored or lying at anchor off False Cape, and to whomever else it may concern :- Take notice that, if the said ship remains in Australia throughout the period of 30 days from the date this notice was served, the said ship shall be deemed to have been imported into Australia and may be forfeited to the Crown. Served on 'Début' at outer anchorage on 8th September, 1986. Signed G. Olsen.

We didn't let their writ upon Début dampen our spirits, but had a crazy party for Mariana on board that day. She really got into the mood, drinking a bottle of Australian champagne down in one go... straight from the bottle.
All our friends off the yachts came, plus the gang from Sandy Bay. Wayne-the-Pain brought along his hippy mates, and Peter and Lisa... a young couple now living in the Stone House on the beach... brought along their two Alsatian puppies. What with Wayne's dog, Rex, plus the usual assortment of young children and babies, we had a full ship.
When Peter and Wayne started arguing between themselves... first over their dogs fighting, then over a Warren catamaran that Wayne had stolen off the beach in Sandy Bay... Mariana saw red. Because they couldn't hold their booze and drugs wasn't her concern! That they should disrupt her birthday party with their petty squabbling was too much to bear! She pulled them to their feet by their hair and dragged them out on deck. After giving them both a piece of her mind, she banged their heads together and left them sprawled about the deck in a drunken stupor. She felt much better about things when she returned to the mess-room for her glass of rum and Coke.

False Cape had been built up during The Second World War as a gun emplacement to guard the ships at anchor in the outer anchorage. Not that the guns had ever been fitted in their reinforced concrete bastions, but left to rust in some distant railway siding further down the coast. The level ground to the north of False Cape... inshore of Sandy Bay... had been used as a Rest and Recuperation Camp for the American Marines during the Battle of Guadalcanal. It was near enough to the airport and civilization to easily supply their needs, but far enough away to keep them from the local girls after their baptism of fire in the Solomon Islands.
Larry Horowitz had converted the area into an open ranch, with corrals for horses and livestock. He'd sunk a bore hole by the small stream that ran near the Stone House, and pumped the freshwater by a relay of pumps up to a tank at the fire-control bunker. With the help of the hippies... who until recently still lived there... he'd run it with his young New Zealand wife and their two children as a commune.
Other than for Peter and Lisa living at the Stone House, the area was now deserted. Although most of the good gear had already gone, the place was a goldmine of abandoned equipment. Mariana and I spent our last month at anchor in Sandy Bay carting all this material down to the beach and ferrying it out to the ship in the Rabalo. It was hard and heavy work, especially for Mariana in her pregnant condition, but we wanted to load all that we could for the future.
We both knew quite well that in a few weeks time we'd be putting to sea again with no money, no fuel and nowhere to go. We needed everything we could lay our hands on to help us get through, and False Cape was covered in gear. There was no apparent use for most of it at the time, but I'd learned from my past experiences that gear in the hold is better than gear left behind. To be continued. All the best, Cpt Dick Brooks.


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