SILVER CITY DREAMER

SILVER CITY DREAMER

Copyright © 2006 by (George Massie )
PROLOGUE
1
The sky turned a dark grey, almost black, as the storm descended on the yacht Three people on board. They had sailed across from Holland and were making for Peterhead, a small fishing town on the north- east coast of Scotland.
Sitting in the mess-room they listened to the shipping forecast.
The weatherman was forecasting Severe Gale warnings. “ Viking , Forties , Cromarty , Forth , Tyne……. Severe Gale Nine to Storm Force Ten imminent….”

Sven van der Ser, the “ owner skipper of the yacht”, was listening intently to the forecast and his heart skipped a beat when the weather man read out “ Forth “ because that was the sea area they were in. Now he was beginning to wish he had waited till June to make the crossing. But now it was too late to be thinking that way. All he could do now was wait and take the full impact of the storm when it came. The other crew members were Sven’s girlfriend Olga Laudraup
and a guy called Gunther Rieks who Sven had hired back in Rotterdam.
“ We will have to lash everything down and be prepared to take the full impact of the storm when it comes!”
Olga looked worried. “ Do you think we will be able to ride out a storm as intense as that ?”
“I certainly hope so or we are in big trouble! “Olga,” you stay in the cockpit and keep her head into the wind,” while Gunther and I , secure everything down.”
Quickly they pulled on their survival suits and opened the Hatch that led to the afterdeck. The wind had already began to howl and before they knew what hit them the word screaming had taken on a new meaning. The strengthening gusts of wind made the large wave crests turn a frothy white and the sea birds paddled with heads low into the wind. They knew the weather better than any human.

The two men were having to shout at the top of their voices so as to hear one another. The wind howled and the sea looked awesome as it took on a new appearance , almost as though it were on fire…. white and smoky , as the wind blew the spray like clouds hanging on the water. The freezing spray lashed at their faces and felt like small needles prickling into their skin. Gunther’s hands were numb with the cold as the icy water bit into them. He pulled in the spinnaker as tight as he could and the thin nylon rope burned into his hands as it slipped through them when a gust of wind took the sail. He eventually managed to haul it in tight again after much effort and secure the rope on the cleat.




Olga watched them from the cockpit window, growing increasingly frightened as
she looked at the sea and the two men straining to hold on for their lives let alone lash everything down.
“Oh, watch out Sven? “Please Take care!” She cried out as though they could here her .
“The strengthening gusts of wind could easily blow them overboard”.

As the huge seas rolled down on them the yacht tossed and turned like a cork in a tub of water. The screech of the wind bellowed around the yacht and the huge mountainous rollers of white frothy sea would engulf them as though it had swallowed them up but only for a second
Each time a great wall of sea came down on them the yacht climbed to the crest of it and surfed down into the valley only to take on the next huge wall of water.
A loud cracking noise echoed in their ears. Sven saw the mast bend with the wind and a large crack appeared in it. A gust of wind took the sail , and ripped it right out of its fastenings and it streamed out over the side. It was still fastened to the gunwale and part of the rigging came down hard and Gunther took the full impact on his shoulder knocking him over ,
It hurt like hell ,slowly quickly got back on his feet.

“Are you alright, Gunther ?” .

“Yes….! I ..I don’t think I’ve broken anything…. Ill be alright !”

“Are you sure !

Yeh.....I think so

Sven acted quickly and cut away the sail as it was pulling the yacht around.
If it pulled them broad side on to a sea such as that it could easily capsize them.
Exhausted, they came back inside and fought to catch their breath. The wind and sea had taken its toll on them. Their heads were soaked and the cold icy water dripped from their faces, blue with the cold.
“You take the helm, Gunther, while I start the auxiliary engine!”
“ Good luck ! that Engine was very sluggish when we left Rotterdam harbour - “remember?”
Sven remembered only too well ,he just had to get that engine started.
He opened up the hatch that led to the engine compartment and pressed the starter switch. The engine turned over but would not start. Sven cursed at it. He knew they were in grave danger and they could easily capsize, they would not be able to steer the vessel up through the wind unless they got the engine fixed.

He tried the starter again . Still nothing! Sven opened up his tool box and took out some tools, picking up a shifting spanner, he began to dismantle the fuel filter bowls and checked, to see if there was any sludge or water in the filters. They looked dirty with sludge, so he replaced them with new filters and bled the fuel system .
He tried the starter switch again. ,the engine fired up .
“Phew!.... Thank heavens for that!...” “He shouted out loud” .
He knew if the engine had not started, they would not have had much hope with the type of Sea’s that were coming down on them now.
His heart was thumping in his chest and he could feel the beat of it in his ear drums. His adrenalin was running high and a sense of excitement came sweeping over him. “Steer her into the wind, Gunther, and keep the throttle low”
Shortly after Sven entered the cockpit”


Olga was having difficulty pouring out coffee’s for both of them , but finally managed and passed the mugs into the cockpit. “ Catch these before I drop them.”

Sven took the coffee’s from her. “Thanks, darling! Could you take a look at Gunther’s shoulder? He took quite a knock out there.”

“ It’s alright - I’ll live - it’s nothing. “
“Please let me see, Gunther . I will check to see if you’ve broken anything.
“Okay, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
When Gunther removed his shirt his shoulder was already starting to bruise and it looked swollen. Olga strapped it up and put his arm in a sling to immobilize it. “There - I’m sure that feels better ! Now take this.” She handed him some pain killers .

“Thanks, Olga - you’re a gem!”

“It’s the least I could do. I felt pretty hopeless watching the two of you out there, you were struggling to hold on, let alone lash everything down.”
When she’d finished Gunther struggled back into the cockpit beside Sven, who passed him a steaming mug of coffee.
“Thanks. How’s she handling?”
“ Just fine. We’re managing to keep our head into the wind now. I’m just glad the engine started or I wouldn’t like to think what would have happened to us.”

“Yeah - you’re right there. Any idea how far we are from Peterhead ?”
“ Twenty miles from Buchan Ness Lighthouse…. add an extra two miles for Peterhead. I’ve just taken a reading from the G.P.S. and worked it out on the Chart . She’s doing two knots, so we should be there in about ten hours or so. I just hope we don’t do any more damage.”
“I’ll take over if you like.”
Yeh that will be right.. no way - just you go and rest that shoulder. I’ll give you a call in five hours and we will see what like you are then. Go and try and get some kip.
“Thanks, Sven.”
Nine hours later the yacht had picked up speed to four knots. The wind had died down to about force Seven northerly . They were now three miles from Peterhead. Suddenly the yacht lurched over on her starboard beam and there was a grating sound as something scraped along her hull.

“Can you see what we’ve struck ?” shouted Sven from the cockpit.

“I can’t see anything it must have been something under the waterline ( submerged) I will check forward to see if there is any damage.!”

When Gunther reached the bow of the vessel he opened up the forward hatch and the water was ankle deep. “We’ve been holed ! We’re taking water!”

Sven told Olga to turn the yacht around so the yacht would be stern on to the wind and keep her there while he ran forward to give Gunther a hand .

The Yacht rolled and lurched as Olga turned it around before the wind .
Sven held onto the rails as he made his way forward to help Gunther and inspect the damage. “We have a hole in the Port Bow!” shouted Gunther. The water was now about two feet deep in the forward compartment .

“Okay, Gunther, I’ll go aft and fire a Distress Flare and put out a Mayday on the ship to shore wireless!”

“No - no, wait! I have an idea. If we act quickly we can save her from sinking. “

“How?”

“Follow me!”
They ran aft and Gunther struggled as he held on with one hand ,he opened up one of the seat lockers and took out a tarpaulin cover. He quickly explained to Sven what they should do and they both ran forward again with the tarpaulin cover. The tarpaulin was square shaped and had six feet length ropes attached to each corner . They leaned over the starboard bow rail and slung two of the ropes over the bow and into the water and waited till the ropes started to sink under the bow. They then hauled the ropes round across and under the bow and up the port side until the tarpaulin covered the hole. It was sucked in by the outside water pressure and stopped the ingress of water from entering the hull. They tied all four corners of rope together, and then struggled aft to mend the bilge pumps,They were exhausted.

The water soon cleared as they limped slowly Past the Buchan Ness Lighthouse.

“ That was great thinking , Gunther - you’ve saved the day. Thanks!”


Chapter One
Silver City Dreamer

It was a cold and wet April morning .The wind was blasting gale force in a northerly direction. He could feel the cold biting into his face. Harry Law, private investigator,
was starting his usual morning, walking to his office. He did have a car but it was
in getting repaired. He preferred to walk anyway as you could not get parked near
his office in Aberdeen, (The Silver City) one of the most run down office buildings in the city.
It was all he could afford - he’d been down on his luck lately: his wife had left him, and he’d
taken to the booze to try and blot out the past.
Harry was trying to quit the habit and get back on his feet, but was finding it difficuilt if only he could get the break he needed to help him get back on his feet. “A bit of luck is what I need Harry thought to himself”
Aberdeen, situated on the North-East coast of Scotland, was Britain’s oil capital. It was also one of the richest cities in Scotland per population. Harry’s line of work dealt mostly with fraud and corruption , where there is money you always seem to find corruption.
Harry pulled the collar of his coat tightly closed, and held onto his hat to stop it
from blowing away. He cursed away to himself as the rain started to come on heavy,
just typical Scottish weather for that time of year. One day it would be lovely and the next it would be a storm -you could never tell.

At the same time a yacht entered the bay at Peterhead. A small town thirty miles
on the north side of Aberdeen ,nicknamed (The Blue Toon , cold weather seemed to hang around there , as it was the most North Easterly Point of Great Briton when looking on a map , it stuck well out into the north sea,
Peterhead was a small but had one of the biggest fishing fleets in Europe - over three hundred fishing boats would land their catches there each week.
The yacht had three of a crew on board - two men and one woman , they had sailed across from Holland aboard the Sheanne.
They called up the harbour tower on the VHF, to see where they would be able to get a berthing place. The man in the tower told them to make for the yachting marina, just on the port bow as you come inside the breakwater he told them “moor the yacht up and see the berthing master”.
The man at the helm thanked him and made for the marina.

Meanwhile, back in Aberdeen, a man by the name of Andrew Mclean lay in a
hospital bed in A.R.I.(Aberdeen Royal Infirmary) Forresterhill. He was in ward 9 C and had been admitted the day before, with two broken legs his face badly bruised and his nose was broken he was also suffering from concussion. He’d been beaten up by a local drug dealer and his heavies for not paying up for his last fix The hospital staff were having their own ado’s with him , he was not co-operating with them and he shouted and swore at the nurses.

The man who put him there ‘ Brian Anderson was a notorious gangland criminal from the area who’d committed various violent offences on people like Andrew Mclean. Anderson had been dealing in drugs for years and had no criminal record, due to the fact that he was very clever and devious. The police had known of him, but could never get any hard evidence against him , not enough to throw the book at him anyway.

He was tall and thin and had a rather wimpish look about him, but in his eyes there
was an evil look. They were small and slanted , and a curved scar ran down the left side of his face from the left eye to the corner of his mouth. He was
a real bad egg ,and the word on the street was that he got the scar from Tommy Briggs, another drugs baron from Aberdeen. Anderson had been dealing in Tommy’s territory, and Tommy didn’t like it one bit so he dealt with it himself with a six inch blade.

Harry sat in his office watching the rain battering against the window, almost in a
trance, his cigarette smouldering down to the end. That’s what jolted him back
to reality when he burned his fingers .

He got up and walked over to his filing cabinet, opened the drawer and started going through his files until he found the one he was looking for. Mrs Anne Tucker - she wanted Harry to try and find her husband. He had left their house a month ago and had not returned or left any message saying why.