Coasts of Cape York (15 page)

Willy broke in. “Mr Jemmerling.”

To Willy's surprise and dismay Mr Beck looked suddenly very anxious. “Mr Jemmerling!” he cried. “How do you know?”

“He visited the Air Cadets on Friday night,” Willy explained. “He showed us slides of his collection and we looked through his restored ‘Catalina'.”

“I hope you didn't mention our plans,” Mr Beck asked, his anxiety plain.

That made Willy feel very guilty and he glanced at Stick, who blushed. Willy then said, “I'm afraid we did.”

“I hope you didn't give away any details,” Mr Beck replied.

Willy glanced at Stick who shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other before admitting, “I told him. I'm sorry. I didn't think. We, that is Noddy and I, were talking about ‘Kittyhawks' and that man must have overheard us. He then got us talking about ‘Kittyhawk' wrecks and we told him we were going to look for one. He then asked where it was. I.. I.. er.. I just didn't think. I pointed to Bathurst Bay on the air chart on the wall.”

Mr Beck frowned and pressed his lips together.

Stephen cried, “Oh Stick, you bloody nong! I hope you didn't show him where the ‘Beaufighter' is as well?”

Stick shook his head. “No, I didn't.”

“Did you tell him we were looking for it too?” Stephen asked.

Stick swallowed and went red, then nodded. “Yeah, sorry. It just sort of slipped out.”

Mr Beck shook his head. “Did you show him exactly where the ‘Kittyhawk' is?”

Willy answered before Stick had time to. “Not exactly. He only pointed to the general area before I dragged him away.”

Graham now asked Mr Beck, “Who is this Jemmerlane anyway?”

Mr Beck sighed. “Mr Francis Mortimer Jemmerling, millionaire. He is my greatest rival. We have been trying to beat each other to wrecks for twenty years. Unfortunately he has a lot more money and is doing much better than I am. Now it looks like he may beat me yet again.”

Hearing that made Willy feel very guilty, even though it had not been him who had given away the secret. He said, “We will do our best to help you find the planes first Mr Beck.”

Mr Beck smiled. “That's fine young William. Let's hope we can, but he has a couple of planes he can use for aerial searches.”

“He said a Cessna 180 and a PBY ‘Catalina',” Willy replied.

“That's right. The ‘Catalina' is painted black and he calls it the
Pterodactyl.
I didn't know he was in North Queensland. I wonder what brought him up here?” Mr Beck replied.

“Maybe he was here for the same air show as Mr Southall?” Willy suggested.

Mr Beck shook his head. “No. I would have heard of that. No, I'm afraid Mr Mortimer Jemmerling has picked up some clue and is now sniffing around for more information.”

“Then we must make sure he doesn't find any,” Marjorie cried.

Mr Beck gave a short laugh, then said, “Easier said than done my dear. But I must ask you again not to speak to anyone, not even your friends.”

“We won't,” Willy promised.

Graham now mentioned the B25 that was rumoured to have crashed in the jungle up behind the sugar mill at Castor. Mr Beck nodded. “Yes, I've heard of that one but never had time to go and look. It is up in very thick jungle and no-one has ever been able to find anything. Why do you ask?”

“We thought we might have a go,” Graham answered.

“Good luck!” Mr Beck replied. “When are you doing that?”

“Two weeks time, after exams are finished,” Graham replied.

They settled to discussing expeditions and timings and Mr Beck made arrangements to meet with Graham's father when his ship docked in Cairns the following week. By then they had run out of time and began dispersing.  Willy and his group were the last to leave, allowing Willy another chance to admire the superb collection of models.

His group were then driven by Dr Williams back to Aunty Isabel's farm to pick up Willy's mother. That meant some afternoon tea and scones and Willy had to tell Aunty Isabel all about his schoolwork. What he really wanted to do was get Marjorie around the back to give her a good pash. Just looking at her bouncing bosom was getting him aroused and frustrated.

But he was denied even that pleasure because Marjorie and her brother were dropped off first when they arrived back in Cairns. Then it was home, with an evening spent completing an English assignment that was due the next day.

That night Willy had some very mixed dreams. Two of them started with him trying to impress Barbara but Marjorie kept appearing and he ended up with her, being caught kissing by Barbara. The other was more of a nightmare. In that Mr Jemmerling kept appearing, gloating over their difficulties. His face then turned into a grinning skull and Willy found himself suddenly down in the ocean with sharks circling. He woke up in a lather of sweat and had to go and have a drink to calm down.

Monday was all study and revision for exams. Willy handed in his English assignment and worked hard. Being focused on becoming a pilot in the Air Force helped him work hard as he had heard just how competitive it was to get in. The only things that enlivened the day were watching Barbara during classes and having a quick cuddle with Marjorie when she cornered him in the library.

During the day Willy also thought frequently about their planned expeditions and that set him fretting about the possibility that Mr Jemmerling might even then be out searching.

Tuesday was two exams: English in the morning and Maths A in the afternoon. After school Willy went to the newsagents to see if there were any new magazines on vintage aircraft. That evening he did another assignment- History this time. That night he slept well.

Wednesday was just a day of revision and study. During the school day the only incident that stuck in Willy's mind was seeing Graham sitting with Carol. They both looked a bit tense. ‘I hope Graham does alright,' he thought.

After school the Army Cadets had a training parade. This was to prepare those selected to go on the promotion courses. Willy talked to Stephen and Graham for a few minutes before they began, reminding them that the Air Cadets had their Passing-Out Parade that Friday night. That parade was now starting to loom larger in Willy's thoughts. Mostly this was as a niggling anxiety that the parade go well so that the army cadets and navy cadets couldn't tease. There was also the worry that Mr Jemmerling might beat them to the plane wrecks.

Thursday was a Science exam (Physics) which Willy felt he had done very well at. He then studied hard for the next exams and also completed a Geography assignment. For interest sake he did this on the pattern of swamps and beach dunes on the east coast of Queensland, using the coastline from south of Cairns north to Buchans Point as the example. For this he used the military topographic maps and also a selection of photos, some from tourist brochures and some he had taken himself.

It got him thinking about the coast of Cape York Peninsula, which appeared to have the same pattern: a rocky headland with a swampy bay on the north side, then a sandy beach leading to another rocky headland.  The prevailing South East trade wind was a major factor in this because it caused the coastal current which moved sediment northwards. While working he often worried about Mr Jemmerling, picturing his ‘Catalina' flying over that coastline and landing in the shelter of a headland to search the beach.

Friday brought more anxiety and another exam. This was in the afternoon and was Maths B. Once again Willy was sure he had done very well. Immediately school was over he hurried out to the bike racks. Here he found Stephen and Peter talking.

“Are you coming to our Passing-Out Parade this evening?” he asked.

Stephen nodded. “You bet,” he replied. “It will be very entertaining.”

Willy suspected that he was being teased but said thanks. He then hurried home and settled to polishing his parade boots. Next he carefully ironed his uniform. After a shower and dinner he dressed with particular care, pulling the sides of his shirt around into small folds to make both front and back appear smooth. The small single-bladed propeller badge that proclaimed him to have done a full year of training was pinned to his right sleeve. That done he stood in front of the mirror and admired himself, adjusting the angle of his cloth cap to see which he liked best. Then he set it at the regulation angle and did a few practice salutes. ‘I hope nothing goes wrong,' he thought, aware that he was feeling very nervous.

But it wasn't the worry that someone might muck up the drill that caused Willy the greatest anxiety when he arrived at the Air Cadet depot that evening. It was the presence of Mr Jemmerling. Willy saw him almost as soon as he arrived. Mr Jemmerling was standing over to one side with another man, a solid looking, middle-aged man with close cropped grey hair.

‘What is he doing here?' Willy wondered as he made his way across to where the other cadets were forming up.

As he joined Stick and Noddy Stick pointed towards Mr Jemmerling and said, “There's that Jammything bloke. I wonder why he is here?”

“Don't know, but it is a worry,” Willy replied. “I suppose he wants to pump us for more information so we hade better be careful what we say.”

“Pump who for what?” Marjorie asked as she pushed through to stand beside Willy. She said it with a mischievous grin and the innuendo caused Willy's mind to immediately speculate on what he would like to be doing with her.

The loud voice of the WOD ended such thoughts. The cadets were formed up in one single line, tallest on the right and shortest on the left. They were then numbered and formed up in three ranks. This placed Willy in the front rank of the flight only three from the right marker. The cadets were then reminded of the sequence of the parade.

The parade was on the small bitumen parade ground in front of the hut. The guests were seated on chairs placed along the front of the hut. While standing in ranks waiting to march on from the side Willy scanned the crowd. He checked that Mr Jemmerling was still there but actually took comfort from his presence. ‘That means he hasn't got enough information yet,' he thought.

But it was actually Barbara that Willy was looking for. He saw a number of army cadets but did not see any sign of her. Graham, Peter and Stephen he identified and that put him on his mettle. ‘We must do well,' he told himself, ‘or they will criticize every little thing.'

White uniforms appeared in the lamplight and Willy saw Andrew and Carmen, plus several other navy cadets. One of their officers took his place among the seated VIPs in the front row, his white dress uniform a splash of brightness. ‘And there is Captain Conkey talking to the Mayor,' Willy noted, seeing the portly shape of the army cadet OC in his ceremonial uniform.

Willy was curiously moved by knowing that the people from the other cadet forces were present. Somehow it made things more complete and gave him a pleasant feeling of tension. ‘We will show them how drill should be done,' he vowed. But it was a pity that Barbara was not one of them.

His mother and father were both there, along with his brother Lloyd, but their presence did not have the same effect. That was just nice, making him feel they cared. ‘I am so lucky to have such great parents,' he told himself.

At 1930 hours the parade began. It was a hot, sultry night but a breeze coming in from the sea and across the airport kept it reasonably cool. As far as Willy could tell the parade went without a single hitch. He stood tall and erect, chest out with pride, his eyes taking everything in. The marching on of the banner party caused him another bout of pride. ‘I will do that one day,' he vowed as he watched the banner carrier slow march across the front of the parade.

He also admired the superb drill of the CUOs and sergeants. Just watching the squadron command group all move in flawless unison as they turned and stood at ease made him glow with ambition. Seeing his hero, Cadet Under-Officer Mathieson, saluting with his sword filled Willy with a burning desire to reach that rank. ‘That will be me when I am in Year 12,' Willy told himself.

The regional Wing Commander was the Inspecting Officer and he was received with the appropriate salutes and then conducted the inspection. As he went past the wing commander briefly met Willy's eyes but did not stop to speak to him, instead selecting Marjorie, who stood in the centre of the front rank. The inspection over the squadron turned to the right to march past.

After the march past and advance in review order came the awards. To his own surprise Willy heard his name called out as the winner of the Service Knowledge prize for gaining the highest marks in the exams conducted a few weeks earlier. For a second he stood there, not quite sure that he had heard correctly. Then he stamped to attention and stepped smartly out of the ranks before marching across the bitumen. As he did he concentrated on trying to make his marching as perfect as he could, haunted by the memories of seeing other cadets make a hash of that apparently simple skill. It made him very self conscious and he felt very stiff and gawky but at least managed to keep his arms and legs synchronized.

‘To ‘dodo' march with the army cadets watching will just be the greatest shame job!' he thought. And they were watching. Even as he stamped to a halt and flung his right arm up in salute he glimpsed their grinning faces at the rear of the crowd. ‘Mum and Dad are watching too,' he thought.

The wing commander returned the salute, then shook his hand and handed him a small trophy- a shiny gold coloured aeroplane mounted on a small wooden base with an inscription on it.  Camera flashes flickered and Willy was dimly aware of his mother standing to one side, camera in hand. Then he stepped back, saluted, turned left with his best turn at the halt, then marched over to hand the trophy to Pilot Officer Lowe. Then he marched proudly back to his place in the ranks while the crowd clapped.

When the parade was over Marjorie was the first person to congratulate him. She rushed up to him and flung her arms around his neck. “Oh Willy! I am so proud of you!” she cried before kissing him. That both worried and embarrassed Willy but nobody seemed to think it odd or even notice. Then it was his mother's turn so he had an excuse to disentangle Marjorie's arms. His father shook his hand and then the army cadets arrived, smiling with apparently genuine pleasure to do the same.