Coasts of Cape York (17 page)

There was a general water fight and splashing till all were in and swimming around. Then Noddy suggested a game of tiggy and they next ten minutes were spent swimming around the pool. At the end Willy ended up standing in the shallow end with Marjorie still clinging to him, only this time in front. She smiled, held him tight and kissed him.

As Willy returned the kiss he heard aero engines. The Tobruk Pool is almost directly under the flight path to the Cairns Airport so that in itself was no surprise. Willy being very interested in aircraft, always glanced up at passing planes anyway. But the sound of these motors was so unfamiliar that he was intrigued. He held Marjorie away and looked up. ‘What sort of plane is it?' he wondered.

Across his line of sight slid a large black aeroplane, a twin-engine, high-wing monoplane. As soon as he saw it Willy recognized the type. ‘A Catalina!' he told himself.

Stephen also watched it fly over. The Catalina was obviously coming down to land at the airport. Squinting because he did not have his glasses on in the water he said, “A ‘Cat'. Is it the one you were in?”

Willy's gaze slid over the aircraft before it vanished from view behind the roof of the grandstand. ‘No blisters on the aft fuselage,' he noted. “No,” he replied. “I think it is the one owned by Mr Jemmerling.”

“Mr Jemmerling? Who's he?” Betina asked.

Before Willy could explain Stick answered. “It is his plane alright. That was the
Pterydactyl
.”

“How can you tell?” Stephen asked.

To Willy's surprise Stick was able to describe how the
Pterodactyl
had no blisters. A wave of worry swept through him. ‘I didn't think Stick took that much notice. Has Mr Jemmerling made him an offer?' he wondered. For the next few minutes, while Stick explained to Stephen who Mr Jemmerling was, Willy pondered whether Stick was in Mr Jemmerling's pay.

Noddy spoke next. “I wonder where Jemmything has been?”

“Probably looking for our plane wrecks I suppose, after you told him where to look,” Stick replied.

“Oh I did not! That was you!” Noddy retorted.

While the two argued Willy had to admit that the same thought had occurred to him. ‘With a plane Mr Jemmerling has a much better chance of finding the wrecks before us.' He also worried that perhaps Stick or Noddy had taken money from Mr Jemmerling and might be his spies. That caused him to feel uneasy as he did not like to think ill of his friends. Instead he wondered where the plane had been and where it was now. ‘He said he parks it at the airport,' he thought.

Looking around at the nearby slopes of Edge Hill and Lumleys Hill an idea came to Willy. Several times over the last few years he had walked up the walking tracks to the lookouts up on the mountain. ‘I would get a good view from up there. I should be able to see where it is parked,' he thought. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know that but just felt an urgent desire to find out. ‘The more we know about the enemy the better,' he rationalized.

With that in mind he turned to Marjorie and said, “How would you like to go up to the lookout up there?”

Marjorie turned and looked at the scrub covered slopes. “What for?” she asked.

“To look at the planes landing,” Willy replied.

“Oh, is that all. I thought you had something else in mind,” Marjorie whispered back, her face dimpling into a mischievous grin.

That hadn't occurred to Willy but he instantly seized on the idea. “That too,” he answered.

“OK then,” Marjorie replied. She kissed him and pressed against him, to Willy's mixed embarrassment and delight.

“Come on then,” Willy said. He moved to the nearest steps and heaved himself up.

As Marjorie went to climb out after him Stick called, “Where are you two off to?”

Marjorie turned and poked her tongue at her brother, then giggled. Willy grunted “Never you mind,” and walked off.

A chorus of ‘We know what ya doin'!' and ‘Don't do anything we wouldn't do!' followed them across the lawn. That got Barbara's attention and she gave Willy a quizzical grin which made him even more embarrassed. But now that he had the idea he was determined.

Hotly aware that he was very aroused and that lust was not helping him think straight Willy got dressed. Marjorie pulled on a T-shirt and shorts. As they walked hand in hand towards the gate Willy sensed that he and Marjorie could easily end up doing things they shouldn't, and that that could dramatically affect his life. But he was so hopeful he felt an intense desire to act.

But it didn't quite work out like that. To begin with they had to get from the pool to the bottom of the walking tracks. These started at a car park beside ‘The Tanks', old naval oil tanks converted into art and craft workshops. That meant a ten minute ride along Collins Avenue. Between the tropical heat and busy traffic Willy almost lost interest. Only after they had parked their bikes, as Marjorie took his hands and grinned at him, did he start to become excited again.

It was so hot and humid that both were perspiring and within minutes of starting to walk up the hill the sweat began to pour out of them. Willy had forgotten just how big the hill actually was and as he plodded up the ‘Blue Track' he wondered if he had miscalculated. At the junction with the ‘Red Track' on the edge of the Bamboo Patch he paused, unsure which track to take. In the end he took the right fork and led Marjorie up through the Bamboo Patch.

As they puffed and sweated up the slope with its many steps Marjorie began to grumble and get sulky. “We don't have to go all the way up this hill do we?” she complained.

Willy had no clear answer. As they plodded up through the bamboo the breeze was cut off and he felt quite hemmed in by the thickets of bamboo. To make matters worse mosquitoes began to buzz annoyingly. It was only when they came out on the more open eastern slope of the hill and got a view that he felt better.

Marjorie obviously wasn't happy. “I'm not enjoying this,” she grumbled as they came to another section of the track which was even steeper and with hundreds of steps.

“Not far now,” Willy replied while wiping sweat from his forehead.

“I'm thirsty,” Marjorie whined as she came to a puffing halt on another set of steps.

Willy was too but he didn't want to admit that. Instead he stood and waited till she had her breath back. The pair then resumed their upward climb. To make matters worse they were passed by lots of other people, mostly joggers doing fitness runs. Willy had thought they would have the place to themselves.

Marjorie wasn't impressed by them either. “There are a lot of people,” she muttered.

“We will find somewhere private,” Willy promised.

At length they arrived at the first lookout but Willy at once decided it would not do. Not only was there another couple seated at the only seat but the trees had grown up to obscure most of the view. He pointed to the next lookout 500 metres further up the hill. “We will go there. The view will be better,” he said.

“Oh bloody hell!” Marjorie grumbled. She looked hot and annoyed and Willy knew he was not doing very well.

Reluctantly she followed him. He led the way along a short cross track to rejoin the main track. Then it was on up the slope. Once again they passed groups of walkers and joggers and people who were obviously tourists. The path was not as steep and was bitumen and fairly easy going. Best of all it gave a view of the airport and as they plodded up Willy spotted the black shape of the
Pterodactyl
. The amphibian was parked in the general aviation area amid a couple of dozen smaller planes.

At length the pair arrived at the second lookout. To Willy's immense relief there was no-one else there and they were able to slump down on the seat in the small shelter on the crest of the open ridge. From there they had a marvellous view out over Cairns, Trinity Bay, the Coral Sea and the Airport. ‘That's better,' he thought, placing his arm around Marjorie's shoulders.

But Marjorie wasn't interested in the view. She just wanted a ‘pash' and snuggled up to him, regardless of their skin being slick with perspiration. Willy found that bit yucky but made himself ignore the sticky sensation and respond. As he did he kept glancing past Marjorie to look at the airport. That did not help. As he kissed her his eyes noted tiny figures near the
Pterodactyl.

‘That is Mr Jemmerling,' he thought. ‘I wonder where he has been?'

Suddenly Marjorie's angry face filled his gaze. “Well if you aren't interested we may as well go home!” she snapped.

‘I did say I wanted to look at the planes,' Willy thought, but he had the good sense not to say it. Instead he muttered ‘sorry' and turned to look at her. Then he gave her a good kiss and a hug before kissing her again. That settled her and when he began to caress her during the next kiss she murmured with pleasure and pressed herself harder against him.

Willy would have tried to go a lot further but a family group arrived and stood around the lookout. Annoyed he sat up and released Marjorie. Then he looked at his watch and was surprised at the time. “It's after four. We had better start back down soon,” he said.

Marjorie was not happy but grumpily agreed. Willy stood up to watch a commercial jet come in to land. As he did he noted dark grey clouds billowing over the mountains across the inlet. Heavy showers of rain could be seen beneath them and there was the grumble of thunder. “We had better get down quickly or we will get a wet bum,” he added.

So they set off back down the track. It was a lot easier, except on the knees and calf muscles but the approaching storm increased the humidity so that sweat dripped and trickled off both of them. By the time they reached their bikes the first drops of rain were starting to fall. That meant a quick ride along Collins Avenue to the shops to take shelter. They were then marooned for the next hour as lightning cracked down and rain fell in a genuine tropical deluge.

Marjorie was not amused. “I will be in trouble with my oldies now,” she said unhappily. “They thought I was going swimming with Stick.”

“I'll come with you and explain,” Willy offered as they wheeled their bikes out into the last of the rain.

“Next time we will go to the movies and sit in the air conditioning,” Marjorie muttered. “Or sneak off somewhere cool and comfortable.”

‘At least there will be a next time,' thought Willy.

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

GRAHAM NOT INTERESTED

 

Sunday afternoon found Willy, his father, mother and brother at Beck's Air Museum. Willy's mother had never been there before so had to be shown around. While this was being done Graham arrived with his father, mother, sister Kylie and big brother Alex. Willy had met them all before and secretly thought Kylie, who was a year younger than him, was just about the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Graham's father, Captain Kirk, was a solid, weather-beaten man with a serious face. Willy could clearly see that Graham would look just like him when he was older. He knew that Graham often wished his father would stay at sea more but also knew he respected him enormously.  Willy found it easy to visualize him as the ship captain he was, even though he was dressed in casual civilian clothes.

The Kirks had been in Mareeba visiting Capt Kirk's mother so the meeting at the Beck's had been easy to arrange. Capt Kirk shook hands with Mr Beck and then said, “So you'd like to charter one of my ships to move some wrecked aircraft?”

Mr Beck nodded. “That's right, two World War Two wrecks.”

“Are they easy to get to? Can a vehicle collect them and drive them on?” Capt Kirk asked.

“One is. It is right on the beach. But the other is in a fairly inaccessible place. We might need to take our own vehicle with us, and then think about winching or using a crane. There are no roads leading to either area,” Mr Beck answered.

“Beaches eh? Hmm. So we need to worry about the depth of water, the tides and any underwater obstructions. Can you show me which beaches please?” Capt Kirk said.

As a chart of the East coast of Cape York Peninsula was spread on the bench top Willy had a stab of worry that Capt Kirk might steal their secret. Almost immediately he felt a stab of shame. ‘He has to know to plan the thing and I'm sure Graham's dad would never do anything like that,' he thought.

Capt Kirk was shown the approximate locations and bent to study the chart. After a few minutes he straightened up and said, “No obvious problems. It depends on the weather and the tide. When are you planning to do this?”

“Four weeks time, after the Year Tens have finished school,” Dr Williams answered.

A calendar was consulted and then Capt Kirk opened a book of tide tables and studied them. “Should be alright,” he commented. “Depending on the weather of course. You can get a lot of northerlies at that time of the year and they could build up a dangerous surf in Bathurst Bay. It is also the cyclone season,” Capt Kirk said.

“Cyclones? Are they likely?” Mr Beck asked.

Capt Kirk looked thoughtful and nodded. “December to March is the cyclone season, but they are very rare up in that part of the coast. They usually come in much further south; Bowen and the Whitsunday Islands for example. But the weather people will give us plenty of warning so it shouldn't be a problem. I still have to sail anyway.”

“So you think our scheme is feasible?” Mr Beck asked.

“Certainly. We can use the
Wewak
. She is our old Landing Craft Tank. We could drop you off with some vehicles and supplies on our way north to Thursday Island. We always do a run with Christmas supplies at that time, and could pick you and your wreck up on the return trip a week later,” Capt Kirk said.

Mr Beck looked anxious. “Wouldn't that be a bit unsafe, not having any transport if we had an accident?”