Ross River Fever

by Christopher Cummings

  “Could my men operate it?” the inspector asked.

  Martin looked doubtful. “She can be a bit tricky. I think I should be the pilot.”

  “You will need a deckhand to do the rescue,” Andrew added.

  “Will it carry two?” Carmen asked.

  “Yes,” Martin replied, although he sounded doubtful. “In fact she’d have to lift three.”

  “I’ll give you a diver,” the inspector said.

  “Too heavy. I’ll do it,” Andrew offered.

  Again the inspector sucked his teeth. He tugged at his jaw and looked out at the river. Abruptly he nodded. “OK. I’ll get things organized. What do you need?”

  Within two minutes Andrew and Martin had been bundled into the back of the 4WD and they were churning their way up the muddy track towards the road. The inspector sat in the front beside the driver. All the way he was on the radio. Letitia sat beside Andrew and asked what was going on. She did not seem very happy, or very interested. “I’d let him drown,” was her chilling comment.

  It took four minutes of muddy low-range driving to reach the gravel road. They turned left and accelerated and within five more minutes were at the Schipholl’s. To Martin’s relief his mother was out. He had feared she would veto the attempt. Letitia got out with them and went into the house with barely a word, which worried Andrew and upset him. He had expected more concern and support.

  Martin unlocked the garage. Two policemen from another car helped lug the canoes out. Martin meanwhile had thrown the dust cover off the machine and set about refuelling the engines. As soon as that was done Andrew passed him a lifejacket and put one on himself. The inspector stood shaking his head critically as he studied the hovercraft. He was a very worried man.

  As soon as Martin had checked everything he seated himself on the hovercraft and started the motors. To Andrew’s relief they burst into life at the first try. Martin waited a moment for them to warm up, then signalled for the police and Andrew to take hold of the tow ropes. Andrew took over control of the police and told them what to do.

  On his command they walked the hovercraft out of the shed. It was lifting well and gave no trouble getting it along the driveway and across the road. Andrew then ordered the police to swing around so that the hovercraft was facing stern first down the slope. They then eased it down, a difficult job because the wet grass was slippery and they kept losing their footing. However it went alright and the hovercraft was soon sitting just off the now submerged pier, spray blowing out from it in all directions.

  Now the hard bit- how to load two people onto it. Andrew had been worrying about this as he suspected that the balance would be all wrong and that the hovercraft would tip over. Martin had obviously given it some thought too as he nosed the bow of the hovercraft onto the pier.

  “You go on that side, and I’ll go on this,” he bellowed to Andrew above the roar of the motors.

  Andrew nodded and gingerly placed one foot on the baseboard. The hovercraft dipped at once until the baseboard went right under on that side. For a moment it looked like the idea would not work at all but Martin climbed out of his seat and counter-balanced him on the other side. The base levelled out and the water drained off. The inspector’s face registered deep concern and for a moment Andrew feared he was going to veto the attempt.

  To forestall this he turned and crouched down on the starboard side of the seat. Martin moved to crouch on the port side. The hovercraft wobbled and felt very unsteady. Martin indicated the tow ropes should be cast off and he and Andrew took one each and rolled it up, thrusting them into cloth bags he had fastened to the legs of the seat.

  By now Andrew was doubly soaked by the spray as well as the rain. He saw Martin grin and give a ‘thumbs up’ before engaging the propeller drive. The hovercraft began to move forward. Martin pushed with his foot against the pier to get the bow around. Andrew saw the long stretch of the river open out in front of him and then the engines rose in note and they began to move forward.

  It was the most incredible sensation he had ever felt. The hovercraft seemed to surge and rock at the same time. It wobbled and felt very unsteady. A mist of fine spray enveloped them and waves lapped at the bow, being swept aside or ridden over. Water surged against the new breakwater. Then the bow came up as Martin adjusted their position and the hovercraft began to pick up speed.

  The spray cleared and the wind began to blow on Andrew’s face. Within moments his feeling of concern had been replaced by one of exultation, then by alarm. The hovercraft began to skim over the water at an incredible speed. Floating debris seemed to rush towards them, then suddenly vanish underneath without so much as a tremor. The rocking and wobbling gave way to a more solid, surging feeling.

  After the first two hundred metres Andrew risked a glance at Martin. He grinned back and laughed. Andrew managed a grin in return but clung on tightly to the seat, very conscious of the spinning propeller blade in its safety cage just behind him. They sped past the swimming pontoon, deserted in the rain, and across the place where Maggot had drowned, then under the Charles Barton Bridge.

  Martin slowed down to do that, but even so nearly sideswiped a pylon. Further up the river he nearly lost her when he turned too sharply and then over-corrected. The hovercraft went into a slow side-spin. Andrew clung on in fright but Martin merely whooped with delight and adjusted the controls. They roared on along the long reach southwards, then eased over to skim the edge of the reeds on the right bank. That allowed them to slide around the bend in a wide curve which brought them swinging in close to the right bank again just below Gleesons Weir.

  As promised a dozen men were waiting, half policemen, half volunteers from the SES in their orange overalls and raincoats. There were also half a dozen TV cameramen, hurrying to get their pictures, their assistants shielding the cameras from the rain using umbrellas. Martin edged the hovercraft in close to the bank with slight touches of the throttle, then shut the motors down as the men took hold. Andrew jumped off into the water and grabbed hold as well. Martin followed.

  A reporter shoved a microphone in front of Andrew. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Navy cadets,” Andrew answered

  “Navy cadets!” echoed the man. He then tried to ask more questions but Andrew brushed him aside. “Later!” he snapped.

  It was the work of a few minutes for that many people to carry the hovercraft up around Gleesons Weir. On the upstream side they found the diver who had been swept down and his inflatable. As they lowered the hovercraft onto the gravel roadway the inspector arrived at the run.

  “That was bloody quick! I did it flat out with the siren going!” he commented.

  “She’s a good hovercraft," Martin said proudly.

  He and Andrew climbed aboard and Martin went to start the motors. To his dismay the small engine started easily but the main motors spluttered and refused to go.

  “Water in the electrics,” he muttered. A policeman held a raincoat over them while another dashed to get some dry cloth. Martin lifted the new engine covers and carefully wiped the leads, helped by a policeman who knew all about engines.

  “There’s your trouble,” the policeman said, wiping it dry and spraying some drying fluid on a spark plug. The wires were reconnected and the cover put back in position. Martin pressed the starter and the engine burst into smoky life. It spluttered and coughed a couple of times, making the inspector frown again. Martin didn’t wait. He looked at Andrew who was crouched in position and nodded. Andrew nodded back and gestured ‘go’.

  With a roar the hovercraft lifted itself. As soon as it was fully up and the engine was roaring evenly again Martin engaged the propeller. The hovercraft slid forward into the flooded reeds and nosed out through them. Now real excitement gripped Andrew, as well as a burning desire to be in time. Close behind them was the danger of Gleesons Weir. Ahead of them, around the next bend, was the even more deadly challenge of Black Weir.

  CHAPTER 31

  MARTIN AT HIS BEST
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  Martin let out a yell which made Andrew look anxiously at him. To his surprise he saw that Martin was grinning. Their eyes met and Martin shouted: “Doesn’t she run well?”

  Andrew nodded but could see nothing to smile about. He was thoroughly scared and was clinging on with all his strength. By this time the hovercraft was a hundred metres upstream from Gleesons Weir and still accelerating. The floodwaters had no effect on its progress. It just skimmed over the ripples and swirls of foam and debris. To Andrew it was an incredible sensation.

  Martin set a course which slowly angled them across to the south side of the river. By the time they had crossed over to skim along close to the reeds on that side they were up past the houses and rounding the bend which brought the Black Weir into sight.

  “Holy mackerel! Look at all the people!” Andrew cried. He pointed and Martin looked and then laughed.

  “Quite an audience.”

  The whole bank opposite was thronged by hundreds of people, despite the rain which still fell in a steady drizzle.

  “We are on TV,” Andrew added, noting several TV vehicles and camera crews. He shook his head in amazement, then shook it again to try to clear his vision which seemed to be obscured by dancing black dots. He licked his lips, which felt very dry, and wished he did not have such a bad headache. It was bad enough being scared. To his annoyance he also found he was shivering and hoped it wasn’t from fear.

  But he had to concede that fear was part of it because now the Black Weir was fully in view and from that angle it was even more frightening. Before his gaze was a thundering wall of white water which plummeted into a seething mass of boiling foam. Spray rose in a cloud and a cold wind blew out from the fall. Below the foam, the river swirled and eddied. Standing waves indicated both strong currents and underwater obstacles.

  “We rescue the diver first,” Martin yelled, his voice barely audible above the sounds of the floodwaters and engines. Andrew did not dispute this. He wiped drops from his forehead and squinted ahead to try to pick where the man was.

  Martin steered straight for the isolated tree. Only as they got closer did he throttle back on the propeller to slow their rate of advance. To Andrew it looked easy enough but he noted that there was a swirling back-eddy on the downstream side of the tree in which was a mass of floating debris. To his relief the hovercraft just slipped over these with no apparent difficulty.

  The police diver was still there. He turned his head to look at them from where he had hauled himself up into the lower branches. Martin took the hovercraft slowly in until its nose edged in under the branches. It nudged the trunk and Andrew reached up and grasped a branch to hold them steady, an action he instantly regretted as the tree was swarming with ants.

  “Get on!” Martin yelled to the policeman. The man shook his head and pointed up to the weir.

  “I’m OK. Go and get that kid.”

  “No. Get on!” Martin yelled again.

  The policeman then pointed to the nearest bank where a group of police and SES volunteers were setting up ropes to rescue him. “I’ll be OK. You try to get that kid.”

  Again Martin shook his head and shouted. “Either you get on or we just go home.”

  Andrew sensed that Martin wasn’t bluffing but the policeman still hesitated. Martin screamed angrily: “Listen, I mean it. I’m not going to risk anything till you are safe. I hate that mongrel up there and don’t care if he drowns. So either you get on, or we leave.”

  This time the diver shook his head and made a face but began to climb towards them. Andrew brushed off stinging black ants and reached up to steady him. He was dimly aware of a loudspeaker booming at them from the bank but the words did not register. He just knew that he was feeling hot and scared.

  The diver lowered himself and placed a foot on the front of the hovercraft. Andrew had been wondering what that might do to the balance and been ready to move to counter-balance. Now he found out. The bow dipped sharply and water surged on, a strong, brown swirl. He cried out in alarm.

  “Stop! Go back! She will dip too much.”

  The diver lifted himself back into the tree. Andrew turned to Martin and shouted above the engine: “It’s no good. She will tip over or sink if we put three people aboard. Take me back to shore and come back.”

  Martin shook his head. “No. I can’t do it on my own. That bloke up there at the weir might be hurt or snagged. I need a crewman to do the actual rescue.”

  “But she won’t take three people,” Andrew insisted.

  “I can see that. Look, there is one way, but it is very dangerous,” Martin replied.

  “What’s that?”

  “I will tow you on a lifeline. You would have to hop over the side though,” Martin replied. As he explained this he had to juggle with the controls to hold the hovercraft in place.

  Andrew glanced at the turbulent floodwaters and felt icy fingers grip his stomach. It would certainly be dangerous. Worse still, he knew that one of life’s real crises had arrived. ‘If I back out now I will despise myself for the rest of my life,’ he thought. In his heart he knew he had to meet the challenge, even if it meant death.

  “I’ll do it,” he said grimly.

  “It will be very dangerous,” Martin replied. “You could be dragged under, or caught on a snag.”

  “Couldn’t be worse than being on this crazy machine,” Andrew replied, forcing a grin.

  “Good man! Use the tow rope,” Martin said.

  Andrew knelt and hooked his arm through the seat while he pulled the tow rope out of its bag. He looped the end around his waist and started to tie a bowline. ‘I’ll need a knot that won’t slip,’ he thought. As he did he silently thanked his Navy Cadet instructors for all those knots lessons.

  Martin stopped him. “Make two loops, one for you and one for the victim.”

  That was so obvious Andrew wondered why he hadn’t thought of it. He undid the knot and slid more of the rope around him. Then he tied a bowline around himself and a second in the end of the rope just below it. As he tested these he realized they would be vital. ‘I feel terribly weak. I’d never be able to hold a person against the pull of the current!’

  When he was ready Andrew studied how to go about the job, then indicated what he wanted Martin to do. Martin nodded and then signalled to go. Andrew immediately slid over the side and hung on till Martin had moved to sit in the seat, thus maintaining the balance. As soon as his legs were in the water Andrew knew he was in for an ordeal. The water was cold and the current was very strong. It pulled his legs this way and that as though he had no muscles at all. Worse still they were bumped by the eddying sticks and a log.

  Andrew looked up and beckoned the police diver. “Come on!” he shouted. With one hand he clung on to the tree and with the other held up the loop. Martin struggled to keep the hovercraft stationary. The diver had watched all of the preparations and understood exactly what was required. He slid down the tree into the water and grabbed the loop Andrew held up for him. He slipped this over his shoulders and under his arms. As soon as he had done it he gave a thumbs-up and grabbed Andrew.

  Martin pushed in the throttle. The hovercraft surged forward and out away from the tree into the main current. Andrew had expected him to go the other way but instantly saw the wisdom of that course. If they went the other way they risked getting snagged and tipped over by the trees.

  As the hovercraft curved away the rope suddenly jerked taut. Andrew felt himself spun around and his legs came up, hitting the diver, who clung to him. For a moment Andrew’s head went under water and he experienced a surge of panic but then he surfaced. Water continued to flow over his shoulders and one side of his face but he managed, with the aid of his lifejacket, to keep his mouth clear so he could breathe.

  Martin took the hovercraft slowly upstream until Andrew and the policeman were well clear of the tree. They towed along behind in a welter of self-made spray and foam. Andrew began to worry that the tow rope would snap, or that it wasn’t tied
securely enough. He tried to look but found too much water in his eyes. It was all he could do to cling on and to hold the diver.

  The north bank, now crowded with even more people, seemed to slide slowly astern but come closer. Andrew realized that Martin was angling slowly across the river, with the hovercraft pointing upriver against the flow, and the towline dragging astern. That way there was no danger of them going in under the machine and their drag was helping to move them across.

  By twisting his head Andrew could watch but in doing so he swallowed a mouthful of dirty water which made him cough and splutter. The bank came rapidly closer. He noted that Martin allowed them to drift downstream to the vicinity of the drain the Turtles had used. People came racing down to meet them.

  Policemen and SES workers splashed into the shallows and eager hands reached out. Andrew felt himself grabbed and the next moment he was being dragged up onto the bank. A man started to try to take the rope from under his arms.

  “No! Leave it on. I am the crewman,” he called.

  The policeman shook his head. “Someone else can take over. Get out.”

  Andrew shook his head and struggled to his feet. He felt groggy but hoped that wasn’t obvious. “No. We are a team. Let me go.”

  The policeman looked doubtful. Andrew saw that the police diver had been freed from the loop so he pointed upstream. “Let me go! That other person is still up there and every minute counts.”

  “Let someone fresh do it,” the policeman replied. Andrew took in the man’s hard face, the plastic rain cover on his cap, the raincoat glistening in the wet. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have dared to argue with a policeman. Now he shook his head.

  “No. We are navy cadets and we are trained and have practiced,” he said, bending the truth in his determination. “I have the experience. I know how to do it.”

  He looked around. Martin was still holding the hovercraft just off the bank, facing upstream, throttles open enough to hold his position. Catching his eye he gestured urgently. To Andrew’s relief the policeman released his grip. With legs that felt like rubber Andrew walked forward along the bank, looping the rope into a roll as he went. He was conscious of the hundreds of people watching, of the TV camera crew; and of his fear.