Freed of its massive load, the sampan surged forward and one of the men staggered and fell to the deck. The other man happily waved a wine bottle at the guards, who suddenly realised that the crew of the sampan were drunk. The guards laughed with understanding and called out again. This time the order was much more relaxed,
“Get out of here you drunken buggers before you do yourselves some damage.”
With the crew still waving merrily, the sampan slowly chugged back across the basin and vanished from sight.
It was almost dark now and the loading of the containers was well under way; the men had been warned: “The ship must leave with the tide at first light. So we will have to work late to complete the loading in good time!”
There were arc lights all over the warehouse and loading area but the sea side of the ship remained in complete darkness. Alex and John, using one of the large self-propelled underwater sledges from the tug, crossed the basin and settled in the soft mud near the stern of the cargo boat. They found the trawl boards without any difficulty; the problem was that they were still about thirty yards away from the propeller. The boards were actually the metal hydrofoils used to splay out a large fishing trawl. About two metres long and about one metre wide, each had eight metres of twelve-millimetre chain attached. All attempts to move the heavy boards failed and their frantic attempts were sending up clouds of silt, which were clearly visible from the surface. John signalled Alex and swam back to the sledge where they had secured a coil of old nylon rope. Alex understood the meaning and swam back to help John towing the rope and made it fast to the two loose ends of chain. Then, towing the easily handled rope, he swam back to the propeller and tied it securely around each of the three blades.
The plan was simple. When the vessel manoeuvred to leave the dock, the rope would wind itself around the propeller and drag the rope and chain around the prop, hopefully causing damage to the bearings or possibly even the gearbox back inside the engine room. Either way, divers would be needed, first to check the damage and then if possible to repair it. Alex hoped that the damage would be sufficient to warrant dry-docking the vessel.
Ideally they needed a two-week delay.
The crew of the cargo ship worked hard and fast, unloading the last of the crates from the warehouse into the containers and on to the ship, to finish by two in the morning.
“OK Philippe, you can let the guards go now. The crew will finish up and batten down,” The man with the clipboard ordered.
Philippe spoke to the leader of the dog patrol relieving them of their duty.
“Thanks. We appreciate you’re being able to help at such short notice!”
“Our pleasure,” the guard dog leader acknowledged, cheerfully checking the wad of notes Philippe had handed over. “Double rate soothes a lot of pain!” Satisfied, he nodded his head, gave a half salute, turned and signalled the rest of his team to walk the dogs back to their vans.
Soon afterwards, the gangplanks were pulled in and the warehouse locked up but the arc lights still illuminated the starboard side of the ship and the quay.
“The tide is low now so we’ll have to wait until dawn. I want a double deck patrol until we sail — the rest of the crew may as well grab some sleep,” the captain ordered his duty officer and vanished into the bridge.
Ming-Ho, watching from the shadows of the warehouse, waited a little longer and then slipped quietly away. As soon as he arrived at the café, he telephoned and reported to Alex.
Oscar didn’t expect any real difficulty in persuading Dick to accept the proposed financial package, which would release him and his sister-in-law from their liability in the boat. The main obstacle, he knew, was always going to be Dick’s wife and the child.
Marion moved into the saloon with Annie while the men, seated around the cockpit in the canvas deckchairs, were soon deep in conversation.
Annie fussed nervously with a plant swinging in a macramé basket. “Oscar and Greg sent me this as a thank you for looking after them on their fishing trip.” She brightened up a little. “It was a lovely gesture and tells me something of the sort of genuine people that I believe you are.” She looked at Marion. “I told a bit of a lie yesterday about Dick’s wife, my sister!” Annie looked disgusted with herself. “It has made me feel very guilty. You see, she’s an addict all right but doesn’t work in the rope factory any more — hasn’t for a long time — because she’s already working in the nightclub. I can tell you she does a lot more than dancing.” She folded her arms and shook her head in disgust. “The other thing you should know is that the baby Dick’s so convinced is his could be anybody’s!” She placed a hand on Marion’s arm. “Dick’s one of these old fashioned people who, no matter what, feels he has to care for his so called wife and the child.” She looked away. “Dick just doesn’t want to believe the truth. You see he was always away at sea fishing, often for weeks at a time. She was sleeping with any and every man who would buy her a fix. Yes they are separated now, but he still thinks the child is his!”
Marion had not spoken for fear of interrupting the flow as Annie unburdened her pathetic story.
“Are you and Dick lovers?” Marion asked honestly.
“No we are not but I confess it’s not my fault. He treats me with respect as his partner and sister in law and has never made the slightest suggestion otherwise — unfortunately,” she replied, admitting she had always had a “soft spot” for him and was bitter about the way her sister had abused his generous nature.
“You see Annie, Oscar can find the funds to solve your debts and obligations on the boat. However you have to realise the reason for that is that we need a boat to organise a dive on the gold ship everybody seems to be talking about,” Marion said bluntly.
Annie was suddenly alert.
“That’s going to be very dangerous. The man my brother works for is doing the same thing at this very moment; they were his boats who chased us yesterday. There’ll be big trouble if he thinks someone else is trying to race him to the treasure!”
Marion nodded with understanding.
“Yes I can see there could be. Why don’t you tell me what you know about this warlord and the treasure? It may help us to solve the problem.”
Annie poured herself another glass of the fruit juice and started,
“There have been many tales of gold-laden treasure ships sinking around the coast but most of them are pure fantasy, evolving like folk stories based on the general fact that a few vessels, which at that time were genuinely were transporting highly valuable treasures, were tragically sent to their watery graves. One story in particular refers to a German submarine, known to have sailed from Manila loaded with several tonnes of gold during the last days of the occupation. Now apparently there are recorded reports of a ship or something exploding off Corregidor that same night. There do not appear to be any records of the submarine being seen again. Support for the story was enhanced when about two years ago a fishing boat, trawling near Corregidor and the generally accepted location of the explosions, pulled up a bar of crudely cast gold in his trawl. Because this fishing boat was not equipped with GPS navigation equipment the exact position of his remarkable find was never properly logged.