A story for Miin - River raid. 3/26/2007
Mangrove swamps are found along many tropical shorelines, usually around river mouths and along the banks, spreading inland many kilometers, depending on how low lying the ground is. They are an essential part of the ecosystem, playing host to many species. Their inhabitants form an essential part of the food chain, and also protect the soil from wave action, stopping soil from being washed away. They absorb pollution from upriver, leaching it out, and preventing it from getting further down the food chain.
They also are great places to hide.
The various tributaries of the river are used by the locals for transport and communication. They do this by the use of small sampans fitted with outboard motors, or speedboats. The many waterways are interconnected, and the proximity of the rivers with 2 neighbouring countries also tends to make it ideal for smugglers to ply their trade. I won’t, at this point, mention piracy, which was another problem in itself.
The responsibility for policing the coastal waters lay with the Marine Police. Understaffed, under equipped, and usually out engined by the smugglers, they had their work cut out for them trying to keep smuggling under control in that area. Then someone had the bright idea of using the teams to assist in patrolling the area.
This wasn’t so bad. We got to sample the wildlife and nightlife in the coastal town where the marine operations were based at, and it was a fairly cushy assignment, all told, because due to a lack of base accomodation, we were billeted one of the local hotels. This was pure heaven. Hot and cold running water, clean sheets, flushing toilets. We even had a choice of catered meals from the nearby restaurants.
We did the normal routine of patrols, usually in the pre-dawn hours. We were on a 2 month rotation, and we were 2/3rds of the way in, without having spotted a single unauthorised vessel in our patrol area. We stopped a lot of fishermen in their sampans, but since everyone knew the fishermen were probably also doing the smuggling as a supplementary income (or vice versa), we didn’t manage to arrest anyone. I guess the smuggling activities stopped suddenly when word got around town that there were a bunch of newcomers carrying some really heavy weapons and wearing no nonsense faces were moving up and down river.
Some of the rivers were shallow, and had a lot of debris in them, usually floating logs. This meant that for most patrols, the team travelled in RIBs, or rigid inflatable boats. You would have probably seen them in some movie or other, 2 rubber pontoons with a rigid fiberglass hull, and an outboard hung on the transom. Or in our case, twin 200hp outboards with high speed screws.
One particular early morning, we were heading upriver. It was cold and somewhat misty, with the first tendrils of the rising sun beginning to colour the sky. I looked up at the sky, and pulled my boonie hat a little closer down to my ears. I looked up ahead, and saw a vessel coming down river towards us.
To be continued…
- Posted in : Pulp Fiction
- Author : thesnark
Comments»
Gah, the wait is killing me.
dont u hate this serialised story telling.. get on with it!
Heavy weapons?
NSDS3 : Wait wait.
Oyster : Wait wait.
Dr. Tan : Yes, heavy.
*refreshing the page every 10 minutes*
still waiting…